


Bedside Monster

by Scarlet_Claws



Series: House Beasts [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Comedy, Cookies, Demon, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fanservice, Flirting, Fluff, Human/Monster Romance, Humor, Kissing, Light-Hearted, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Making Out, Male Slash, Oliver is basically a hobbit, SO MUCH FLUFF, Size Difference, Teratophilia, Unwanted Roomate, Vanilla, Wholesome, imp, monster under the bed, romcom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 01:02:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 50,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20165560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Claws/pseuds/Scarlet_Claws
Summary: Oliver, 28, human, is as normal as anyone can be. Wovyn, his new monster under the bed, isn't. Not that Oliver had any say in the imp moving in and messing up his quiet life, he was just baking cookies at the wrong moment.Well, at least Wovyn is hot.





	1. Uninvited

**Author's Note:**

> Just trying something different than what I usually write. This is mostly light-hearted and easy yet open for critique. I hope, dear reader, that you will enjoy the silliness.

[Art by Tegabiart](https://twitter.com/Tegabiart)

Oliver stepped out of his car and took a few steps to stretch his legs after his ride home. He looked at the building complex where he lived and his eye, automatically, went to the large "For Sale" board that had been set at the window of the flat across his. Instinctively, his fist tightened and he had to force them to relax.

Not wanting to dwell on the events that had taken place in front of his door but two weeks prior, he grabbed his bag from his car, locked it and walked straight to his flat.

Or at least he tried to because he didn't resist stopping for a moment when he reached his floor. He vividly recalled own the surprise he had felt on that night two weeks ago. He had been coming back from work, just as he was doing right now, when he had come face to face with the man lying across the doorway of his single mother neighbor. In retrospective, Oliver wondered why he had not asked the intruder what he was doing or called the cops to deal with what obviously was a fishy situation. Instead, like the coward he was, he had just thought to himself that it wasn't his problem and had ignored the stranger. He had wondered later on if that was maybe the father of her kid, and then he had almost forgotten about it before he heard screams for help from the other flat. She was lucky that the police and the firemen Oliver had called had arrived before any serious harm could come to her, but this had probably been the longest minutes of their lives: she trapped with a crazy man and he stood on the other side of the locked door, helpless, his mind too numb to think of anything else he might do besides a couple of calls. He would never forget the feeling of utter helplessness. Just the thought of her dying - and it would be his fault for not reacting fast enough - still made him shudder in dread.

But she was safe. Scrapped, probably traumatized forever, but safe. He had later learned that the man was indeed the father of her child, aka her blood-thirsty ex that had not been able to stand the idea that she might live a normal life without him. All was well that ended well except for the memories... the ones she carried in particular. That's why she couldn't leave fast enough and had moved back to her parents under a week.

"I'll be fine," she had told Oliver before she left. He could only hope that she would be, as they would probably never see each other again. She had also hugged him and told him thank you.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on such things, he told himself as he realized that it had been five minutes since he had been standing there, reminiscing. Now was the time to get home, kick off his god-awful shoes (he honestly needed to go and buy some new ones this weekend) and maybe do something he enjoyed. Baking sounded nice but he felt lazy, so cookies it would be.  
Oliver was a man that approached his thirties, yet he had never saluted anyone as he entered his flat since he had moved out from his parent's place. Why would he? He had always lived alone, and he was fine doing just so. What a bother it must be to share a living space, he told himself, and maybe even come back to a home where things might not be where he had left them. If he needed company, he would meet up with friends, but on most days he had more than his dose of company from having spent a day with his colleagues. Heavens, just thinking about Remy and his bottomless energy reserves while being on his time off gave Oliver a headache.

And here he was again, thinking about things that were unpleasant. He chastised himself under his breath. Talking to himself was what he considered his quirkiest habit. Wasn't it weird that he could think, yet chose to talk when he was alone? Never mind that an outside observer would find his habit of making sure that the five bird statuettes on the shelf in his entrance were perfectly aligned every time he came home far quirkier but he never really stopped to think about that. Nor did he stop to think about how he had spent two solid hours measuring his entire hallway to make sure that his five framed paintings were at the same distance from one another or how he tended to have five of everything. Well, maybe not exactly that, but at least in decoration. But he wasn't causing any harm to anyone. He simply liked arranging his space however he saw fit, and wasn't precision the most audacious of all aesthetics?

But anyway, cookies.

Maybe Oliver was a man that lacked a little bit in fantasy: so what? He had his own creative streak, and that was his cooking. Baking, in particular, was his favorite and the whole apartment complex knew it since he enjoyed sharing the extras he made (when he was stressed) with everyone. That made him more popular than what he might feel comfortable with, especially when single women found out that the sweet, clean looking man from the building B didn't have enough feminine presence in his life. Turning out dinner and coffee dates made him awkward every single time. Maybe telling them the truth about his attractions would be kinder, but that was a can of worms he wasn't willing to open... yet. Or ever, if he could get away with it. Instead, he measured his flour and his sugar with zeal, mixed his dough carefully and set his timer on nine minutes. Perfect. Now all that was left to do was to wait, and then he would be able to put his treats to cool, and he had just enough time to read a news article on his phone.

Or, at least, he tried, because halfway through he heard a noise that caught his attention. It did so because it was unexpected: the sound of something, a table or anything that would be quite heavy, being dragged on the floor, and it came from another room. This cuts his reading short as he raised his head. His logic told him that this must be the people from the flat above him doing god-knew-what, yet he had a doubt that it was not that. For one, the walls were soundproof enough that this dragging would have to be uncannily loud to be from beyond one. He had no other explanation than this one, so he became curious enough that he set his phone to investigate.

It's a good thing, he thought to himself, that it's not the night right now, or that would have been creepy. Not that he was scared of the dark... or, at least, of the dark in itself. He did, however, think that it gave a scarier edge to mysterious that might happen, and if there was one thing he wasn't a great fan of it was mystery. He thanked his lucky star that light poured freely through the windows of his living room, that he might see that a cabinet had indeed been moved away from the wall and out of alignment with the rest of the furniture. He had like a sixth sense when it came to detecting unparallel lines and a strong natural urge to fix it.

There was just one small unexpected problem. The cabinet was full of his things, all folded and tidied up neatly on the shelves inside, making it heavy. Heavier than what he could easily move on his own, at least. He noticed right away when he leaned against it and tried to give it a small push (it was easy to assume, given that it had moved on its own accord, that it would be an easy task) only to find that it remained unbudging.

"That's not right," he said to the empty room.

He arched his back and tried again while sticking his butt unnecessarily high in the air. When he failed, he huffed and took a step back, re-evaluating the situation. One might assume at this point that he was a small, fragile man, or even on the more plum side, but he wasn't. Well, maybe he wasn't as tall as he would have liked to be (but again, society tended to put unneeded pressure on men that were shorter than six feet) but he always took care to burn of the calories from sampling his baking by going to the gym twice a week. It was a small price to pay for never having to struggle to open a jar of pickles again, but it would have been nice if such benefits extended to being able to push his cabinets back into their assigned spot. After all, he was the owner. His most cherished privilege was the freedom of deciding for the disposition of his interior.

"You aren't supposed to move," he told the naughty cabinet. Not that it cared about being talked to. It was most likely completely innocent.

Oliver had to turn around to press up against it with his back, his slippers sliding against his perfectly varnished wooden floor as he desperately tried to make any progress. He did, maybe, if imperceptible nanometers could be perceived as that. He would have to empty the offending furniture to put it back in place. What a bother. It begged the question as to how it had moved in the first place when it was so heavy, yet he didn't find the will in him to act surprised. Those sort of occurrences were just part of the things that happened every day, after all, it was just a more extreme example of it.

Yes, really.

But before he could go back to figuring out his problem some more, his timer called to him with a sharp beeping. He hurried back to the kitchen, going around the other way (his flat was built in such a way that the three main rooms, the kitchen, the living room, and the television room, had enough door that it allowed one to be able to go in circles). Oh, it smelled absolutely lovely. He didn't bother waiting to try one to chalk them up to a success, yet those wouldn't be the type of treats he would be sharing with just anyone, for the simple reason that they were peanut butter and chili flavored. It was uncanny but, having spent a lot of time experimenting with dough and trying the result, he had discovered that this was what he liked best.

Putting on his favorite high-temperature gloves, he pulled the tray out of the oven and placed it on the table to cool down. It was still too early in the evening for dinner, let alone dessert (not that he had never eaten dessert before dinner, he wasn't that stuck up) so they would have to wait.

"Well," he said as he another long look at the tasty looking treats, "maybe I'll take one. To try."

He wasn't really fooling himself: he would be having more than one before he would even start to cook his dinner. For now, though, he remembered that he had not finished his news article. It was a witty piece too, the type he liked reading because it was obviously written by someone quite smart and not to up their own ass about it. He liked it.

That didn't stop him from noticing the large clawed hand perking from the edge of the kitchen table and crawling towards the tray of hot cookies.

Oliver stopped his reading to watch it, mouth hanging agape. The hand, if that was the appropriate way of calling an appendage that was twice as big as his own, black, and clawed, gently tapped around, looking for something interesting. It found the edge with a soft clang when its claws met it and delicately felt around for a cookie. It jolted when it touched one, picked it up carefully and slowly, as if trying to be discreet (never mind the sound of the treat gently scraping against the wood of the table), it dragged it over to the alley of the kitchen opposite to Oliver and disappeared.

"Ah, fuck," muttered Oliver to himself. "Not again."


	2. The Cookie Monster

Oliver turned sharply on his heels and went for the bathroom. There was something he had suddenly remembered, and he needed to check right now how badly he had messed things up. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror - pale, dark-haired and tired - before opening the cabinet over the sink. On the inner side of the door was a calendar that was dated from last year, and all the days were crossed in up to the middle of July. Yeah... he really should have kept himself up to date with his medicine. And he guessed that his current stock was-- yep, yep, way out of date, there was no way he was going to put that inside himself, that went straight to the garbage.

He rubbed his face. He would have to go to the pharmacy tomorrow and order it again. That would take a couple of more days, and then he would have to wait for the hallucinations to fade entirely, which could take yet another couple of days. That made four days at least where he would have to pretend to be normal instead of being normal, and that was aggravating. As if he needed the extra stress now! Not that he was doing anything else with his life, but stress was never welcome. At least that would fall halfway into the weekend, but at the same time, that also meant that his weekend was ruined. And being back on his pills always made him so paranoid all the time, like he was blind and fearing that he might be jumped, and he shouldn't even get started on how it messed up his libido pretty badly - not that it should matter when he was forever single, but it did to him.

He closed his medicine cabinet and looked at himself in the eyes - in his blue eyes, might he add, since it was the only asset he found himself proud of. Time for the usual self pep talk, he guessed. He felt so awkward though. He had not done anything like that since he was twenty.

"All right, Oliver," he said. This felt very cinematic and cringy to him, but he pushed through regardless. "You know the drill. They aren't there. No matter what you see... they are not real, and pretending as if they are will only make them stronger. You're not crazy as long as you pretend that they don't exist."

He paused. He didn't feel any more convinced than before his speech, but at least he got to do it like they did it in the movies. When he was younger and had not yet found the right combination of drugs that would dull off his hallucinations, he had thought that to be the only positive side to his situation: things were happening to him that happened to no one else. That meant that he got to do things that no one else did, right? As long as it helped him "cope" (a term his psychiatrist had loved using when talking about his case) he could do whatever he wanted.

A loud hiss from the kitchen startled him. He didn't think twice about it: he rushed out of the bathroom to see what was happening.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the... thing from the kitchen. His first impulse was to call him a monster, yet that would have been quite right. He had dark skin - dark with cold, blue undertones, not something you would be seeing on a human - and horns, but at the same time he had two arms, two legs, and opposable thumbs... even if he also had a tail. And claws on his long toes (those feet weren't without any resemblance to the ones of hawks). Last but not least, Oliver was quick to assume the creature he was visualizing was a he because he didn't have any breast, and Oliver knew that because he also didn't have any shirt. At least he had shorts, as old and used as they might be.

One clear advantage gained by the fact that the... thing looked quite human was the fact that he was just as readable. Oliver was quick to understand what might be the trouble from the way the creature stuck his tongue out and blew out strongly through the mouth: the cookie he had stolen had been quite spicy, and he must have gobbled it down unsuspectingly.

"Oh dear," muttered Oliver. What he really should have said was 'serves you right for stealing' but being smug like that was beyond his capabilities. "Oh dear, I'm sorry."

The creature's head shot up and their eyes met. They were a bright yellow, which stood out strikingly against his dark face. With all its sharp angles, strong jaws, and pronounced cheekbones, it only confirmed Oliver's suspicion that he was dealing with a he rather than a she. The thing had long pointy ears and a flat cat-like nose, only its nostrils were slits that flared intensely from the pain of his burn. His gaze held a lot of feelings. Pain and confusion were among them, but also hope. For all his alienness, Oliver would have had a heart as hard as granite to remain unmoved by such a look.

"As shit," said Oliver to the creature. "Wait a moment, I'll just-- Just wait."

He quickly turned around and pulled some milk from the fridge to fill a glass. Once he had that in his hands, he hurried back to the thief and, fearing neither claws or sharp teeth (since the creature seemed to be quite well furnished in that department) he placed it in his hands. The thing seemed surprised yet was agile enough not to spill any of it, but he didn't drink any. Tongue hanging, he looked up to Oliver in confusion.

"Drink it," he said. "It will help you."

The creature looked back down at the glass and did as he was told... partly. Oliver had never told him to kick his head back and loudly make bubbles, not that he was going to stop him.

"Oh, let me get something else."

Oliver could feel the eyes of the creature on him as he moved around the kitchen once more. A glance over his shoulder showed him that the thing was indeed peeking over the side of the table, his slitted eyes following him carefully. Anyone but Oliver, moved by the impulse to help, might have felt a touch of fear. After all, on top of his homely appearance, he was huge... the bad type of huge, for now, because he looked perfectly capable of breaking Oliver in half.

He pulled out the bread and an appropriate knife for cutting it. He just wanted to help, even if he was just a hallucination...

He stopped himself right there, the newly sliced bread hanging from his fingers. Ah shit, what had been his pep talk facing the bathroom mirror about already? Not interacting with the product of his crazed mind or he will only make them stronger? He backtracked, looked at the illusion from across the room. This one looked so real it was easy to be fooled... and that meant doctors, medication and lots of rest. He knew that he would never simply heal from his condition, but he had sort of hoped that he would. He hadn't had an episode in years! Anyone else would think the same thing, right?

"I'm sorry," he told the creature, dropping the bread on the ground. "Ah fuck, wait, you aren't real. Darn it, I keep forgetting. Darn it."

He turned around and escaped to the living room. He felt stupid to run away, yet he didn't know what else to do. What did someone do in such a situation anyway? If anyone had a better idea, he would gladly take it.

His eyes landed on the moved cabinet and he frowned. He really couldn't stand things being out of place, he better get to work on putting it back. He couldn't budge it when it was full, but he could probably move it when it was empty. The only problem was that he really liked the way he had arranged things in there. It was going to take a while to remove it all with the necessary care.

Oh to hell with it all, he had been looking for something to take his mind off his mistakes just moments ago. He would do it now if that would stop him from trying to go back into the kitchen again to check on the creat-- the delusions created by his sick brain. He needed to keep remembering that it wasn't real. Scratch that, what Oliver really needed was to forget that this incident ever happened, and then while he was at it magically cure his goddamn unexplained hallucinations.

"Your case," had said his psychiatrist when ten-years-old-Oliver had told him about the things he saw, "is a rather rare one, but I've heard of it. It's closely linked to infantile hallucinations. Those that have it quite strongly while growing up can sometimes keep it beyond the age of seven, and sometimes even for their whole life, but I can assure you that nothing you are seeing is real."

"Can anything be done about it?" his mother had asked. 

"Right now? Nothing. There is some medication available on the market but they are in no shape or form appropriate for children. We'll have to wait for little Oliver to be a bit bigger and start testing for something that works for him. But don't you worry. He's a mature and intelligent boy, apart from this little default he'll live an absolutely normal life."

"Are you sure?" his mother had insisted. "There aren't any operations that can be made? Or something that will make him a normal person?"

"Ma'm," the doctor had replied, unamused, "this isn't an illness, there is nothing to cure unless you are suggesting making him blind. Oliver is a normal child, the only thing that's different about him is that his imagination is a little out of control."

Oliver knew that his psychiatrist had meant well when she had said those last words, but his mother had taken them too seriously. From then on, all imagination had been banned in his household. No fantasy books, no crazy movies, no cartoons or anything that might excite his brain a little too much, and all decisions made by a mother who had not bothered looking deeper into the subject. Not that it had helped. Oliver had been plagued with images of strange creatures and weird apparitions until his late teens, where he was finally sturdy enough to take the little pills that would make his life so much easier.

Or so he had thought.

Because of course products that messed with the brain had lots of side effects. He would become emotionally unstable and possessed little to no desire to add to his stress by interacting with other people, both mentally and _physically_. He became sensitive to change. He tended to put on weight. He had trouble falling asleep. And most importantly, he got extremely paranoid. But at least all of those problems were normal people problems. He could hold his act together with a bit of discipline and a lot of coping. Sometimes he struggled with depression, but that could also be solved with a pill, or at least his type of depression anyway. But it was fine, he used to tell himself, all was fine, and he was a normal functional individual, with a normal job, a normal apartment, and even a very normal car. Was there anything normal-er than owning a normal car?

And yet, he had procrastinated on taking his medicine for over a year. He wasn't stupid, he knew that procrastination was something people did when they wanted to avoid things they should do. He had convinced himself that he might be completely normal and he had fallen for it hard. 

He mused about this as he took down yet another pile of towels and sheets from his cabinet and placed it on his table. He had removed about half of the content, it was time to try again if he could budge it. He briefly wondered if it could have been the creature moving it, before chasing away such a ridiculous idea. Illusions couldn't move furniture. That was a common occurrence that was yet to be given a reasonable explanation by scientists, an explanation that didn't involve the delusional belief of mischevious imps and magic. After all, the world was an absolutely logical place. Just because children often said they saw creatures that moved things around didn't mean that it was true. Well, for one, they were children! And it had been proven since Freud that 'under the bed monsters' and were just representations of children's repressed urges before they learned how to deal with them in a healthier manner. Everyone knew that! Even if that didn't explain the fact that he, among other adults, still had those visions when they were perfectly capable of managing their feelings (when they weren't drugged to repress said visions.) But then that became a rare medical condition.

It took a lot of huffing and puffing to move the cabinet back in its place, but he managed in the end. Now all that was left was to put his things back where they belonged and he would be all set. He was starting to get hungry, so he would need to start cooking his dinner once he was done. So much for relaxing. At least his home would once more be in perfect order, and that was all that mattered.

Fifteen minutes later, he walked back into the kitchen. He pretended not to check, but he totally did check if the creature was still there. Much to his relief, it wasn't, but same went for the cookie it had stolen, the piece of bread Oliver had dropped and the milk in the glass on the ground. There was but one explanation for this.

"Darn hallucinations," said Oliver. "Making me forget that I had a snack before dinner!"


	3. Bedtime

Oliver, all clad in his white and grey striped pajamas, slipped into his bed after having turned off the lights. He always got in bed at nine-fifteen because he had heard that it brought him quality sleep. Who cared if he got mocked for going to bed with the hens? He was an early riser anyway, always had been, always would be. Nothing in the world would make him stay up late.

Except the thought of what had occurred in the kitchen before dinner.

That made him lay wide awake, pondering. If only he could find a pattern to what triggered his episodes, but he knew that many had come before him with the same dilemma and had not been any luckier. Why now out of all times? Why a male monster with no shirt? Did it have something to do with Oliver's... attractions? Had he imagined the creature the way he had imagined it because he was horny? This made him slightly uncomfortable. With his medication obliterating his sex drive, he had not bothered really thinking about what pleased him in a long time. Maybe that was the key to it, he thought, the creature's abs that was. Well, not literally. It wasn't as if Oliver had wasted any time drooling over them, panicked as he was about getting the poor thing to stop hurting. Not that it had really been hurting, since it was an illusion. It didn't matter how real it had looked.

Oliver sighed. If only the encounter had been real. He could do with a bit more shirtless men in his life, especially of the buff variety. Not that he was horny, after all, it's not like he was starved for affection. So what if anyone else that would have found themselves going through a dry spell since their late teens would? Not him. He had more dignity than that, and he had accepted that he would be a virgin forever without making a whole drama out of it. There was no way he had conjured the image of a ripped and underdressed male creature because that was the image of what he wanted. No no. At most, it was a glitch where his brain had gone over the top while just trying to visualize something. For crying out loud, he was way past the age where his raging hormones were supposed to make him susceptible to such imagery!

It was just that... well, shirtless men were nice to look at.

He had known about his preference since his early teens. However, while he wasn't religious or irked by homosexuality, he had decided to keep it to himself. Coming out to his friends might have made things awkward, and coming out to his mother... well, let's just say that they weren't on the best of terms at the time. So he had kept that as his little secret, jacked off to gay porn when he was alone and had decided that he would explore it more in-depth when he was an adult and free to do whatever he wanted.

Only that by the time he became an adult he had lost a great deal of motivation when it came to pursuing any sort of relationship. Sure, he could have hooked up with a stranger to pop that cherry and he low-key felt guilty that he hadn't done that but, at the same time, it wasn't as if he had felt the desire to do so. His medication sort of blew that for him... until he had stopped taking it. Since then, well, his gay porn intake had increased dramatically and he had started to look at men around him in a different light. But from that to actually making the jump of seeking out a partner? Well, as shameful (and he was ashamed) as it might sound, he was scared that he might have missed the last train for that. Who, in this day and age, had the patience to deal with a twenty-eight-year-old virgin? Partners, believed Oliver, were expected to perform as well as porn stars, with all this sex being put everywhere in the media, and he wasn't that. 

The mattress dipped under weight, making Oliver's eyes shoot open.

There was a shadow in the dark, big, black and scary, with horns like curved spikes on its head and a tail that whipped the air excitedly. Glowy yellow eyes were fixed upon him, studying his features. When the creature noticed that he was looking back, he crawled over the empty side of the two-space bed, closer to the human, with flaring nostrils and a large grin.

And that's all Oliver saw, for he shut his eyes tightly and started to pretend as if his hallucination wasn't there. Yet he felt a weight press him down into the mattress when the creature partly laid on him, and he also felt the soft caress of his breath on his cheeks. Heavens, the other was huge, and heavy, and so, so close to him that the heat of his body radiated through the thin blankets. If Oliver's brain would be making a sound, it would be the fizzing one of meat on a grill, because apart from mentally repeating to himself 'oh god' he couldn't form a single coherent thought. He shouldn't be scared of something that only existed in his vivid imagination... but he was scared witless.

But then... nothing happened. Well, if one didn't count the creature breathing as an event in itself, because those were quite a few liters of air that were moved each time that happened. He also smelled of a mix of dust, dirt, and musk, something that didn't exactly please Oliver. In fact, it was the case with many of the apparitions he had come across. If only his mind could make them take bathes more often, that would make his life a little more pleasant.

He thought that he had already seen the worse of it, but again, Oliver wasn't the most stellar person there was at imagining the worse thing that might happen to him. He had been laying there, absolutely still under the weight of the creature, for what seemed to him like an eternity when he felt the other change position and boop him on the nose. It was gentle, a probing touch, yet Oliver thought about the long sharp claws of that hand and flinched.

Fucking.

Flinched.

He felt like an absolute idiot the moment he realized that he had yet again reacted to the creature. Now he wasn't going to leave, and how was Oliver going to be able to catch the sandman train when flattened like a pizza doe under this rude illusion? Why did it have to feel this real? What had he done in a previous life to be born with such a curse? Had he murdered a puppy? Murdered ten puppies?

The creature booped him again. To Oliver's credit, he kept his act together and did a better job at pretending to be sleeping. Not that it made his performance believable in any way: he was so tense he felt ready to snap like a bow's string and he was starting to have trouble breathing from the weight of the beast on his chest. But, at least, he was keeping absolutely still, and that was all that mattered.

That was until he heard the wet sound of lips parting and something hot, wet, and absolutely disgusting graced the entire length of his cheek. This was too much for poor Oliver. He screamed as he finally opened his eyes and shoved the thing off him. Or at least he tried to shove him for, faster than what a human could ever dream of moving, he had jumped back like a startled cat, tongue still hanging, and disappeared under the horizon of Oliver's bed with a loud thud.

Oliver scrambled to sit up and look at the floor of his room, but there was nothing there. He stared at his carpet in disbelief. He had made the illusion vanish by acknowledging its presence? Now that was what he called a twist. He certainly wished it worked that way more often. If it had taken its spit with it... He wiped his wet cheek in disgust. He usually wasn't that much of a microbe maniac, but who knew where that tongue had been? (Not that it had really been anywhere since it was all his imagination. He meant that in a figurative sense, even if that saliva still felt anything but figurative.)

"Let us forget that ever happened," muttered Oliver. He reached for a tissue on his nightstand to wipe both his hand and cheek. 

Once he had reached an acceptable level of cleanness (and used quite a few tissues in the process), he looked around his room and almost jumped out of his skin when he spotted a pair of glowing eyes watching him from the foot of his bed. The creature had also spread out his large hands on the sheets and had been watching him eagerly, but the moment he startled Oliver he retreated to his hiding place under the bed... partly. His horns were still sticking out over the edge and his hands were still right where he had left them. Oliver was a little surprised by how bad such a so-called illusion was at hiding. That intrigued him enough that he was again doing the stupid mistake of looking at him, he noticed, yet he couldn't bring himself to look away. 

Slowly, as if Oliver wasn't going to notice, the creature rose again to watch. With his flaring nostrils, his twitching ears and his fluttering pupils, he was the very image of someone debating whether or not climbing back near Oliver was safe.

"Don't you dare," he told him. He rose a finger. "Down."

The creature pulled himself upward until his shoulder emerged over the horizon and placed one palm flat on the sheets, grinning.

"No!"

He stood, still touching the bed, before placing a knee next to his hand. The matress dipped under his weight.

"That's my bed!"

The creature full-on flopped down, looking at Oliver straight in the eye. He rolled on his back, shamelessly flaunting the built of his torso, rose his knees to his chest, and curled his talons in delight. 

And then he _purred_. The sound was a deep rumble in his chest, modulated by the bobbing of his Adam's apple. It propagated itself through Oliver's body like small sparks. It... wasn't unpleasant, but he wasn't in the mood.

"Oh, I know what you are doing," he said to the creature. "I know exactly what you are doing. You're trying to butter me up so that I will look at you, I know that. But I'm not about to fall for your tricks."

The intruder only looked smugger, displaying his sharp teeth with a big smirk, and arched his back. Whatever he was trying to accomplish looked suspiciously like showing off his figure.

So, to prove that he was a strong, independent man that needed no vision, (no matter how handsome,) Oliver tore himself away from the creature, laid on the side with his head on his hands, and closed his eyes. "Goodnight! I'll be sleeping now!" He adjusted his positions a little, so that he may be extra comfortable, and did his best to forget that he had company.

But, of course, said company didn't agree with being forgotten. Oliver felt the entire bed shift when the other got up on his hands and knees. He could literally guess how close he was by the sound of his purring, that was until he didn't need to guess any longer because he was laying against his back, spooning him. Oliver felt an arm coming over him to pull him against a chest that was far wider than his own. They were so close that the creature's purring reverberated down his spine to pool between his hips in a way that could only be described as too pleasant.

Oh fuck, anything but _that_.

"Out!" cried Oliver, suddenly waving frantically. "Away with you, fiend!" He whipped himself around and managed to wrack the creature across the pectorals - actually hitting him this time. "Now, you leave me alone or I won't be getting any sleep. Understood?"

The creature had certainly not expected such an outburst and had gone from smug to almost apologetic under a second. He crawled back to the side of the bed and disappeared, not as quickly as last time but still too fast for a human. The last thing Oliver saw was his face, turned to him, framed by his droopy ears, full of anguish, as if he knew he had gone over a line.

And then he was gone for good.

Oliver stayed vigilant for a few moments longer, in case the other returned, before relaxing and crawling to the edge. His double bed had been a moving-out gift from his mother, and even if he had never used it to his full potential he usually loved the extra stretching space. He leaned over the edge and looked under it.

Apart from a few dust bunnies (that he scoffed at indignantly), there was absolutely nothing there. That barely surprised him. It wouldn't be the first time an episode would end and leave nothing behind. 

However, he still didn't trust his delusional brain. He stood up, turned on the light and inspected his entire bedroom, looking under each piece of furniture and inside each container (even if most, if not all, were too small to contain something half the size of his foe). Only when he had made sure that the creature had vanished without a trace did he return under the covers.

Heavens, it was almost nine-thirty. If he woke up tired he was going to have murder fantasies.


	4. Morning After

Turned out that missing fifteen minutes of sleep didn't have that much of an impact on Oliver's night, and he felt as good as he usually did as he prepared himself some tea. Which didn't exactly please him, because now he had no excuse to complain. At least he was sure to start on the right foot for the day. Now all that was left was to not have any delusion come and trouble him during his work time.

And to ensure that this never happened again, he would have to drop by the pharmacy after work to order his medicine. He hoped they would have it in stock or under a moment's notice, he didn't want to have to wait a couple of days to get it... and he would have to pay for this ridiculously overpriced box of pills too. Urg. He had enjoyed not having to include that in his budget while it lasted.

At least his life would return to normal, and that was all that mattered. He certainly didn't want to waste any more sleep over his stupid mistakes. And his mother... his mother had always wanted him to be free from his curse. That was one of the things she had been adamant about in her education. And yes, at times it had made their relationship a little tense but today they were in a good place. Or, at least, at a better place than during his teens. She told him that he had become more agreeable since he had started to take the right medicine - that's how she had known this was the right one for him.

Mistakes had been made, Oliver thought as he buttered himself a second piece of bread. It was time to get back in line and do what was right.

He glanced to the side when he saw movement and caught sight of two yellow eyes staring at him from over the edge of his kitchen table. 

Oliver blew loudly through his nose and looked in front of him, once again pretending that the creature wasn't there. It was the same as last night, he recognized the horns, not that he kept tabs or anything.

As always, his delusion became more active the more he was looked at. This time he simply stood up to his full height and leaned in Oliver's direction. The latter backed up instinctively, not because he was scared but because the creature was massive, so much more so than he could even be. Oliver didn't resist the urge to briefly glance at his chest. Oh yeah, those were definitely some glass-cutting abs on his figure. And those biceps? As big as thighs. Very nice, said a part of Oliver's mind that had become more and more active in the last year.

Not that he was supposed to look.

"I'm sorry," said the creature. His voice was deep and he spoke with a measured pacing, similarly to the way he purred.

That caught Oliver so off-guard that he forgot what he was doing and straight-up stared at the other for a couple of seconds before he reprised himself. So, this thing could talk. Good to know, now he could guard himself against that too.

"It's the first time I see an adult that can see me," continued the creature. "You're no hunter too, I think." There was a deep exhale and it took Oliver a moment to realize that he was being sniffed. "They told me they smell of death and you don't. You even smell nice, like cookies. Even if you are a little strange."

Well, he didn't smell nice, mentally retorted Oliver. The other was standing so close to him that he couldn't do anything else but breath it in each time he inhaled. It might be more attractive if he took a bath, the underlying musky scent might be a bit overpowering but it was male and nice in small doses. Not that something that didn't exist could actually take a bath, it was all just speculation.

"I'll do the proper introduction again since I sort of did bad last night. My name is Wovyn. I'm an imp. A great imp, I think you call us."

Great. Not only did it use the same terminology as the maniacs that believed that infantile hallucinations were real, but he had also given himself a name. Oliver was thrilled to know that his sick brain thought about such details when setting him up on his date with Wovyn-the-great-imp-built-like-a-Greek-statue. How many times was he going to have to tell himself that he didn't need a boyfriend? He was glad to be single. Happy as one could be. Heavens, he really missed his pills now, he was going to have a headache.

Wovyn seemed to be a little troubled by the fact that Oliver was utterly unresponsive. The imp leaned in until he was in front of the other, looking slightly concerned, and waved at him. Oliver, surprised, blinked before staring at the water heater across the room. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw Wovyn lower his hand to get ahold of his buttered piece of bread.

"Hey!" cried Oliver, making the other jump back behind the edge of the table. "Don't take that."

Wovyn glanced down at the bread then back up. "But I'm hungry."

"That's my food."

"But I'm really hungry."

"Can't you like..." Oliver paused, trying to remember what he had heard about great imps - or, as they were also called, monsters under the bed. "Can't you just find a kid and feed off their dreams? Isn't that what your kind are supposed to do?"

He shook his head. "I got no kid anymore. She's gone."

"What do you mean?" Oliver frowned, then remembered something. "You were the neighbor's kid's monster?"

Wovyn pulled a ribbon from somewhere (his short's pocket?) and dropped it on the table. It was pink with a plastic heart pendant tired on to it. "But she left me this so that I can remember her. She couldn't take me with her."

That softened Oliver's frown. "Oh. She was your friend?"

"She was a bit scared of the dark so I helped her go to sleep by reading her stories."

"You can read?"

He nodded. "I love stories. I taught myself by trying really hard. I can even read books with no pictures."

There was a lull in the conversation. Oliver didn't know what to say. He really wanted to continue ignoring the creature but at the same time, he was getting really invested in his backstory. Damn, he didn't know he was that good at coming up with those, he should consider writing books.

Wovyn, probably thinking that the coast was clear, slowly inched his hand closer to the bread. Oliver smacked it lightly, scoffing.

"Stop trying to steal my food. I know you imps like making mischiefs but that's just plain rude."

Wovyn didn't answer. Instead, he looked up, made his ears drop low and his eyes go wide in a perfectly mastered puppy face act. Honestly, seeing this big, borderline scary creature actually attempt looking cute was surprising, yet it worked, somehow. Oliver scoffed at the shamelessness, then looked away. His hand sat over his breakfast protectively and he waited. He could feel those big yellow eyes watching him so intensely it almost became a physical sensation, yet he held on. And held on.

Until he muttered a "you're not fucking serious," and slid the bread towards the imp.

As expected, Wovyn's ears perked up as he grinned in delight before shoving the bread into his face. He flashed his mawfull of sharp teeth and Oliver shuddered. No matter what he had heard about great imps being peaceful, Wovyn could probably make himself look very dangerous, even more so than he could make himself cute... and considering he was rather good at the latter, his new host didn't want to see him at his scariest.

"You're not real anyway," told him Oliver. "It's not like you can eat actual bread. I'll probably find it on the floor later."

Wovyn looked at him, opened his mouth to say something, paused, then grinned as he had a better idea. "Oh, well, in that case, you can give me a second piece."

"A _second _piece?"

"Or a third, if you want. I get very hungry when I have no children's dreams to feed on."

"Don't think I can't see through your plan," scoffed Oliver. "Now you're using my own words against me to get some more food. I'm not going to cut three pieces of bread just for an illusion, I'll have to eat them or clean them up later."

"But I am real!" Wovya stood up to his full height. Oliver discovered that it was easier not to lean back when looking at him in the eye. "I'll eat all of the bread without making crumbs, I promise. It's just... please, I haven't had anything in two full days, I'm starving."

Oliver rose his eyebrows. "You already ate some of my food yesterday."

"But not a lot."

"Go find another kid then, if it's that hard. I'm not even supposed to be seeing you in the first place - and why am I arguing with something that's not real?"

"I would if I could, but that can take months, you know? Kids after a certain age will always have an under the bed monster or a cabinet monster to feed on their dreams, so I need to find one that's the right age to have eatable dreams but not too old. Also, they got to have dreams that are good, you know? Some kids can make me starve because I'm big. Kid-hopping is difficult and eating is fun."

Oliver crossed his arms and tried to look at least two times more determined to stand his ground than how he felt. What could he say, he actually liked sharing his food. He was the type of person that would rather give his lunch away than see someone else go hungry and right now his impulses were making no exception.

So, with a long, dramatic sigh, he gave in. Again. Jeez, he barely knew the guy and he was already letting him walk all over him. And laying on him as he purred loudly. That memory, in particular, made him blush. Needy and pathetic? Maybe. But again, this was the closest Oliver had been toa guy (a male thing?) in years and, apart from the whole not-being-real-despite-telling-him-that-he-was, he was undeniably hot. Gee. If anything, the fact that he was this hot proved that he was a figment of Oliver's imagination. No one actually had the body of a male supermodel... or at least no one that Oliver, twenty-eight-year-old accountant in a marketing company, was going to meet in his lifetime. Maybe in another lifetime, if he accidentally got hit by a truck...

Oliver turned to the bread box to cut three more slices and heard Wovyn walk closer. (It was easy to keep track of where he stood: his talons clicked on the tiled ground.) In fact, interested as he was in what his host was doing, he stood a little too close, his large shadow falling over the entire counter and his every breath tickling the top of Oliver's scalp. It was to the point where the latter even hesitated to turn around, scared as he was about finding himself face to face with bulging pectorals (and the state it will put him in if he did.)

"Will you put butter on those?" asked Wovyn.

Oliver drew in a stuttering breath as the image of butter melting on Wovyn's chest flashed through his mind. He knew that this wasn't what the imp had meant. He was even willing to admit that, yes, his dry spell might be getting a bit to his head if that was the first thing he thought about when he heard the word butter. Heck, it was so bad that Wovyn's scent only half-bothered him. He wanted his old life back because now he had no idea how to react to this new situation and that was _embarrassing_.

Something poked Oliver's hand and he glanced on the side to see Wovyn's tail wrapped around the butter and a knife. This helped Oliver gather his bearings and gave him a task to focus on rather than remain overwhelmed by mere sex-appeal. Yet it was with shaky hands that he spread the best form of raw calories on the slices of bread before lifting it wordlessly over his shoulder for the other to take. Heck, he was so taken by the simple task that he didn't notice that he was giving the piece he had been saying for himself until it was gone from his hands. He had to cut himself another one but, at least by then, Wovyn wasn't standing so shamelessly close anymore.

When Olive turned around, he found the imp sitting at the table, slowly munching on the last piece - the one that shouldn't have been given to him - and thoroughly enjoying it. It was only when Oliver came to sit back that he noticed the purring. Listening to it was relaxing as he sipped his tea - yet he forbade himself from enjoy it too much, lest he might get used to it.

"I'll go to the pharmacy to get some medicine today," he told Wovyn. "Soon, everything will be back to normal and I won't be seeing you again."

The imp paused in his eating, gobbled the last piece and turned to him. "You mean you'll block yourself from seeing me?" he asked.

"Pretty much. Judging by how real you feel and how you... make me react..." Oliver trailed off, before making the effort of shaking off his embarrassment. His shyness, considering that Wovyn _wasn't real_, was ridiculous. He better man up and treat his hallucinations as what they really were: mere extensions of himself. "I mean, judging by how attracted I am to you, it's time that I did something about it."

Wovyn's mouth dropped open, but his ears perked up and his pupils certainly widened. "You... you like me?"

"I mean who wouldn't?" Oliver gestured at all of the imp. "When they are attracted to men that is. You're tall, handsome and ripped. Apart from the whole skin color you got going on... and the tail, and the horns... and also the moving ears - those are a bit unusual too - you're very handsome."

Wovyn couldn't blush - not even the slightest tint, or if there was any it was invisible to Oliver's eye - but that didn't stop him from looking bashful. He chuckled as he touched his own face, then hid it in his hands as his tail whipped the air. Oliver couldn't help but smile, even briefly. In that moment, he loved his overactive imagination for giving him such an adorable sight to enjoy - even if that would soon be nothing but a memory.

The last thought sobered him up. "Not that you'll be staying long."

"Wait, no!" Wovyn jumped to his feet and leaned in close. This time, Oliver had to lean back to be comfortable. "I think you're good looking too! I just didn't expect... please don't take the medicine! Now I want to get to know you."

"I can't."

"I'll hide it," declared the imp in all seriousness. "I don't want you to go. Well, you'll be here, but you won't see me. You can't stop talking to me now, I swear I'll be nice."

"No, you won't. I can't have a child's life." Oliver really wanted to remain firm on this but he could already feel himself go soft. "Listen, you need to go out there and find another kid soon. I am an adult, I can't have you around."

"Of course you can," scoffed Wovyn. "You had me around. And your dreams aren't good anymore, but if you feed me with food we can be friends. Or more. I'll even let you touch my horns. You know." He wiggled his brows. "You get it?"

Oliver didn't repress a snort, even if he managed to gather his bearings under a second after slipping. (He was, however, unable to get rid of his blush quite as quickly.) "Wovyn, I said no."

"But..."

"I need to go to work now." Not really, but Oliver was a flee over fight type. He stood up, leaving his tea and his piece of bread. "This conversation is finished."

Wovyn opened his mouth and closed it again. His face showed every single one of his emotions as he went through them: surprise, anger, then sadness. Eventually, he nodded slowly. "I see. I guess you go now."

Oliver didn't feel proud. He didn't answer, and for the course of the next few minutes, he quietly got ready to leave, even if it was still too early for the office to be open. At some point where he looked back, he saw that Wovyn was gone from his chair and nowhere in sight. That was for the best. Oliver, with his damn soft heart, already felt sad for him - sad for two, might he say, since the imp would feel nothing when he would go back to the oblivion he came from.

He knew that he shouldn't let his mind stray in that direction, but he couldn't stop himself from wishing that there was another way. Regardless of whether or not Wovyn was hot, he had been fun to have around. Very obviously mischievous, fully aware of his power over Oliver's heartstrings, and most probably the messy type (oh, the horror!) but fun in the same way an adventure was fun. Oliver might be one for routine but even he was starting to think that his life was starting to have a bit too much of it. Heck, even his friends, that usually knew better than to comment on the way he lived his life, were starting to get worried.

And that was why he shouldn't think about the what if-s: now he was starting to actually feel regretful. He couldn't live his life full of regret. He had already sacrificed so much for the privilege of being like all the others; he couldn't go on wanting more than what he had, or he would become miserable in his quest to obtain everything he wanted.

And Oliver, secretly, wanted so much more than what his bland life ever gave him.


	5. Mother's Call

He was at work when he got the call from his mother.

He didn't have many people that called him during the day - mostly because a lot, if not all, of his friends worked as well. That's why he generally didn't think of turning off his phone.

Big mistake. It rang in the middle of the office during work time. It startled Oliver, that practically jumped on his bag to retrieve it. When he rose his head with his finger on the answer icon of its screen, he saw that all of his colleagues were glaring at him. This made him blush and mutter some excuse before he scurried out of the office.

"Mom, I told you not to call during work hours," he said.

"Aw, you're still at work?" She asked. He could almost see her as she always was during calls with people, sitting on the couch with her legs propped up on a stool. She was probably scratching Teddy Pompom behind the ears too - Teddy Pompom being one of her Pomeranians. "I missed you."

Hs rising anger melted instantly. It had been a while since he had last seen her. "I missed you too. Is there something you wanted to tell me?" As he asked her, he passed in front of his manager's office. He was a diligent worker and he had almost finished his workload for the day too - unless something unexpected came up. It was fine if he took a five-minute break.

"Oh, no, I just wanted to hear the lovely voice of my Oli-poo. I was thinking about you today, you know."

"Oh?"

Oliver quickly walked in front of the glass windows between the hallways and another office area. He didn't want Remy to-- A rats, Remy had seen him and was waving at him. Oliver pointed to his phone, making sure that the other man saw that he was busy before he could walk over and try to start a conversation. Oliver had no idea why the man was so hellbent on becoming his friend. He knew that Remy had a wife too, so he was quite sure that it couldn't be romantic. It was a mystery.

"Why were you thinking of me?" asked Oliver once the threat was passed.

"Oh, well the other day I saw Paulette. Do you remember Paulette? She had family over - her daughter and granddaughter. The girl's twenty-one years old, but she's so mature for her age, Paulette assured me that she was, and so I thought that it would be marvelous to invite them to dinner..."

Oliver knew where this was going before she was finished. "You want me to come over and meet them?"

"Only if you want to."

Oliver repressed a sigh as he finally arrived outside. He worked in an industrial area and people from different offices had gathered around the ashtray for a smoke. He made sure that he was far enough from them that his conversation would remain private.

"And when will that dinner be?"

"Oh, well we didn't exactly agree on a date, you see, just to make sure that you could organize yourself around joining us, but it would be this week if it happened at all."

Rats. He was going to have to be honest, he couldn't get around this by pretending that he had something planned exactly on that evening. He hated deceiving his mother when he could help it.

"Mom, I don't think that it's a good idea."

"Why that?" she asked. "I think that it's a great idea. Paulette hasn't seen you in such a long time, she was looking forward to having you over, and her granddaughter is such a sweet girl too. How can you not give her a chance?"

"Because... well, for one, she's twenty years old."

"That is not a problem! Oh, Oli-poo, I know you might think that she's young but I'm sure you will get along. After all, girls mature faster compared to boys - even if I must say that it must be hard for you, after all, you haven't spent a lot of time with them so you can't realize that. I was twenty-two when I met your father, you know, and we got along splendidly."

"I've been around twenty years old, mom." Olive didn't want to have this conversation. Again. The parking lot of his office wasn't the place to talk about those sort of things. "I don't want to go out with one."

"But she's studying to become a nurse! She will know how to take care of you."

"What does that even mean?"

"Well, you know..." she lowered her voice. "Your condition."

This time, Olive really sighed and made sure that he did so loud enough for her to hear it.

"Oh, don't be like that, you know I am right. It's not like I expect you to jump right into her arms - not if you don't want to - but it would do you great good to meet some new people, instead of staying all locked up in that tiny flat of yours. I wonder how you can even stand it, you don't even have enough room for a kid - unless you throw out all that pointless crap in that storage room."

"It's not pointless crap. It's a storage room. It stores things that I need later."

"You know that you'll have to throw it all out someday, or move out in somewhere bigger. But we've already established that you don't want to listen to me on the subject, so let's get back to that dinner."

"That dinner I won't be coming to."

"Oh, how can you be so close-minded? I know that you are a little... picky when it comes to women but, if you don't give her a chance, one day you'll wake up and you'll be forty and it will be too late to make a family."

But he didn't want a family. Not to be overly dramatic but he would rather die than try for one if that meant sticking his dick in a vagina. (No offense to vaginas and everyone that owned one but they were better off trying their luck with people that would truly appreciate them.) Even if he did get along with someone that was eight years younger than him (which he doubted he would), she would never be the woman to bring him the happiness his mother so desperately wanted him to have. Well, unless she spent a lot of money on changing her body for him, which honestly would be really creepy if she did. Rather, he liked thinking that one day he would find the courage to make a move on a guy (a real guy, complimenting Wovyn didn't count) and use that as a good reason to come out to his mother.

Okay, that didn't sound like a good plan, but since he didn't truly believe that he would do neither it wasn't as if that plan needed to be given any more thought.

"Are you still there?" asked his mother.

"I am."

"Are you mad at me?" she asked in a quieter voice.

He sighed. As nosy and as insufferable as his mother could be, she was his only mother and he still loved her. He understood where she came from. He even felt bad for her because he knew that she deserved to know things as important to him than how he wanted to live his life... yet at the same time he was terrified of letting her down. It wasn't as if she could have any other child to dote on - not after he was born at least.

"I am not," he said. That was a lie. "I mean, I am not really mad at you. I know you try your best."

"Of course. Always."

"But I don't want to meet Paulette's granddaughter. I know you try with the best of intentions, but it has not worked in the past and I... well, I feel really awkward when doing it."

"But what if it works this time? This could be the love of your life!"

"Mom..." Oliver thought about his words. He knew that the only way to get around this was to talk about his own feelings - that was the only way she was going to hear him at all. "Maybe I am not built to be in a couple at all. I am... I'm happy as I am at the moment, and I feel as if you don't trust me."

She paused for a moment. He knew that she had understood him then. "Well, if that makes you happy... But listen, you got to promise me that if she is exceptionally nice you'll have dinner with her."

Oliver chuckled. "Mom, you think that every young lady is nice."

"I see how it is," she scoffed dramatically. "Poor mom is too old to know what's good for her child."

They both laughed. Oliver didn't really think that her joke was funny, he was just relieved that they were dropping the subject. 

"At least I got to hear your voice," she continued. "Girl or not, you need to drop by once for a visit. Maybe we can even bake something together."

"I would love to. Is dad there?"

"Oh, yes, he is right in the room with me-- give me a moment." He heard her cooing at Teddy Pompom to move away from her lap before she got up and walked over to his father.

"Hey," said the latter in a gruff voice.

"Hi Dad," replied Oliver. "How are you?"

"Work is all good as usual." The man, an important doctor in an important hospital, paused. "And life at home is pretty sweet."

Oliver heard his mother chuckle in the background and rolled his eyes. Those two never changed but there was something comforting about it.

"And you, champ?"

"I'm doing good." Of course he did. He couldn't talk to them about the fact that he was starting to see sexy imps appear in his bed now, couldn't he? "I need to go back to work soon, I'm not exactly on break."

"Ah, okay. Bye champ, then."

"Bye dad."

His mother quickly took the phone back. She must have had the speakers on. "Bye-bye, Oli-poo! I'll miss you. And remember to call your old mother from time to time."

"I will."

"Love you!"

"I love you too, Mom."


	6. A+ Monster

"Ah, mister Renold," said the pharmacist the moment she saw him.

Oliver felt himself bleach immediately. She recognized him, which could only mean that she was aware of how much time had passed since he had last walked through those doors. He had sort of hoped to go unnoticed. If all went well he just needed to go in, grab the thing and go back out, but he could already tell that it wasn't going to go well.

"Let me just check the data, sir..." she typed away at the computer while Oliver looked around sheepishly. The place wasn't crowded but it had its fair share of people, most of them close enough to hear the conversation. "Oh, well, it's been quite a while since you last came here, isn't it? I'm surprised your stock held on this long. Have you been buying them somewhere else?"

Oliver could have lied, but then he would have felt bad about that later. "No, actually."

She stared at him, losing a bit of her retail smile. "So where have you been getting your dose?"

"Well, I, well I haven't." There it was. The truth he had not even admitted to his own mother. He wasn't even sure he knew the name of the woman behind the counter - oh, it was written on her tag. Emily Spencer. What a pretty name.

"Sir..." she seemed to hesitate before continuing, yet carried on regardless. "I am in no way your doctor, but I don't think that it's a good idea. You need to be more diligent, you can't play around with those sort of things. This is pretty strong stuff.

Oliver cringed as he thought about how everyone else could hear his mental health being discussed openly. "I know."

"Let me check if we have some." She clicked a few more times on the computer, putting on her glasses to read the small fonts. "Looks like we don't keep them here, but I can order them for Monday."

"That will be perfect."

"All right, so I'll be doing that." She hesitated, before sliding a card with local emergency numbers his way. "Although if you find yourself struggling in the meantime, please do call for some help."

Oliver was sure that he would be fine for three days. Maybe. The worth threat he had encountered so far was Wovyn's abs and, while the threat they posed threatened his sanity, this was nothing compared to what he had come across in the past. Heck, Wovyn was a walk in the pack compared to what he had dealt with during his teens - he didn't want to think too hard about it, for the memories were harsh, but he was quite certain that nothing as bad would occur between then and Monday.

"I'll make sure to do just that," he told her anyway. "Calling, that is. If there is anything that requires a doctor."

She nodded and smiled at him. "Have a good evening!" she said.

"Thanks, same to you," he replied. 

***

Arriving home to an empty house was a relief - until he noticed that his slippers were not in the place where he had left them. Or were they? He squinted at them. He usually placed them three whole inches closer to the shoe rack and made sure that they were always parallel to one another, which they weren't right now.

Well, he had been in a rush to leave this morning, he thought, he could give himself a little leeway for that. It's not like everything else in the house was slightly out of order...

His eyes landed on the five birds on the shelf in the entrance and he noticed that one was more turned than the others. This irked him. It comforted him to know that he was coming home to a house in perfect order and it irked him when he didn't. It reminded him of how it would be when he was younger. Everything in his living space had its spot and it better stay that way.

He straightened the bird, put on his slippers and dropped his bag in the entrance, before making his way to his kitchen. There, on the counter, untouched, were the chili and peanut butter cookies he had mad himself yesterday. He sat down once he had made himself some tea, ready for a much-deserved snack after having dropped by the gym.

He heard shuffling in the hallway. This sounded awfully like someone looking through his bag. He might even venture that this someone had claws and was trying to be discreet about it (while failing at that, obviously). In fact, Oliver felt very confident in his predictions today: he guessed that whoever it might be, he had two little horns and was just as mischevious as an imp. Which he might be.

It was indeed Wovyn going through his bag, so absorbed in the task that he didn't notice that he was being watched. He started to put some things on the floor and, when the bag was empty, he put his head in it to make sure that he wasn't leaving anything at the bottom.

"What do you think you are doing?" asked Oliver.

That startled Wovyn so hard that he bounced backwards, hopped off a wall and made a dive into the bedroom. Oliver took a while to understand what he had just seen: it had happened so fast that it was like seeing a scene from a movie, only with no slow motion to help the viewer understand. Wovyn could be a little scary with how fast he could move.

When Oliver stepped into the room himself, he spotted the imp's hiding place at a glance: his foot was still sticking out from under the bed. The human looked at it because it was padded like the paw of a cat and the beans looked very squishable. In fact, it was a surprisingly cute foot considering that it was attached to an inhuman monster, not that Oliver was into feet. He didn't resist kneeling down near it and poking it gently. This made Wovyn jump in surprise and pull it into his hiding place; he seemed to have not been aware that it was in plain sight in the first place.

The imp turned around under the bed and his glowy eyes appeared in the shadow. Oliver could vaguely make out the rest of his face, that was resting on his hands, despite the fact that he had not turned on the light in the room.

"It's rude to look through someone's bag," said Oliver. "You shouldn't do that."

Wovyn didn't answer. Instead, he just looked to the side.

"Especially since you were trying to steal my medicine," continued Oliver.

"I don't want you to stop seeing me," said Wovyn.

"We already went over this morning and my answer is that I need to do as I must to so that I can live a normal life. Adults don't see imaginary monsters."

"Not even when they are their friends?"

"Do you think that you are my friend?"

"I would be a really good friend," answered the creature. "I want to be the best friend there is. And then maybe more."

His honesty made Oliver blush. "I appreciate the sentiment, really. But that can't be. You see, you might be nice, but sometimes I get some other visions... they can get really scary, especially since I am the only one that can see them."

Wovyn perked up when he heard that. "Hey, that sounds like meanies. I can chase those away. That's why bedroom monsters are so strong, it's to protect their children." The imp crawled closer, out from under the bed, and flexed his arm. Muscles bulged under the dark skin and Oliver swallowed carefully. "We would have the same deal than what I have when I live with a kid. You feed me and I keep the bad guys away."

Oliver sat back and thought about it. Delicious eye-candy muscles aside, this actually sounded like a good deal. Feeding Wovyn couldn't possibly be more expensive than buying that damned medicine. Using a delusion to fight another delusion? There would be no harm in trying that at least. Worst-case scenario he would be able to take some pills, and all of that would be gone.

"I might be tempted," he told Wovyn.

The creature breathed in deeply through the nose, his pupils dilating until they were perfectly round. "Really?"

"I said maybe, nothing is--"

Before Oliver could finish his response, he was tackled to the ground by what felt like half a ton of purring imp. Wovyn, thankfully, was careful not to hurt him but didn't resist licking his face - his tongue was long and slightly rough, similar to the one of a cat.

"Oh god, oh god," muttered Oliver as he tried to push Wovyn's face away from his. "No licking, please, it's slimy."

"I'll be the best guardian for you," purred the other. "I'll do everything you say so good you'll never want to send me away. And I'll scare the bad guys! But never you. I would be sad if you were scared, when I was younger sometimes I would scare the kids by accident but then I learned not to do it, and then we were very good friends. I'm an A plus monster, a little boy called Jake told me, He even got me a certificate in case I would even go to monster school to tell them that I didn't need to study, but then I lost it."

"That's nice," wheezed Oliver. Wovyn was pressed against him for the entire length of his body and he was starting to feel the effect of that. "Please stop squashing me."

"Huh?" Thankfully, Wovyn stood up. That had been a close call. "Sorry. I thought that since you were an adult you were better at holding weight."

"I am, you're just heavy."

The imp narrowed his eyes at him but didn't try to defend his weight, probably because he knew it was due to all the good reasons.

"Also, you will have to have a bath," continued Oliver. "After dinner, at least."

"I get to wash you too?" Wovyn grinned and rubbed his hands.

Oliver blinked several times, surprised because that was not the answer he had been expecting. "No... I showered this morning. You are the one going in the bath."

Wovyn's smile dropped, along with his ears, as dread came over his features. "Ah."

"You stink. Taking a bath is not negotiable."

Wovyn grabbed his foot and started to squeeze a toe bean nervously. "You, uh, will be staying with me?" he asked.

"I will what?"

"Stay with me, please."

Oliver swallowed. It's not like he wanted to see Wovyn without his shorts, but... he was a bit scared of what would happen if he did. And where that would lead. And how it would end. It was made even more intimidating by the fact that Wovyn reciprocated his interest.

"No."

"What? But why?"

"Because I said so. Now's dinner time anyway, so you can get used to the idea while you eat."

This caught the monster's attention. His nostrils flared and he slowly licked his lips in a way that made delicious heat collect in Oliver's basin. "I'm getting dinner," he muttered.

Oliver nodded and eyed the imp from top to bottom. He was going to have to get to work if he wanted to make enough food for all of him.


	7. At Dinner

Oliver batted Wovyn's hand away from the carrot peels.

"For the last time, don't eat that," he told the imp. "You are going to make yourself full before the end, and there is going to be a lot of food."

"But I am so hungry. I haven't eaten in days."

"Just a little longer. You are not going to die, you just need to wait. Why don't you go and have a nap or something?"

Wovyn shook his head and sunk down, sitting on his ankles with just his eyes observing.

To be honest, Oliver was hoping for him to leave and to finally be left alone. Wovyn was... interesting to have around, to say the least. He constantly switched between standing and walking on all fours, which he managed easier than what a human did because of the strange way his back leg folder. (Hw Oliver described it in his head was that his heel that he walked on his toes, his heel were higher up and his calf shorter.) That allowed him to go around the table with only his horns poking out over the edge, making him quite stealthy when it came to stealing.

And he stole. Relentlessly. Oliver had to bat his hands away from the raw chicken but didn't keep him away from the onion peel until he had to force him to spit them in the garbage (which Wovyn did gladly when he discovered that it was uneatable.) Thankfully the onion itself had been spared even after the imp had picked it up: one sniff had told him that it would be a quite spicy thing to shove into one's mouth, especially whole. Oliver had finally tolerated him picking on the carrot peels... more or less. They had been washed, but he couldn't imagine how someone could enjoy raw carrot peels until he considered something.

"Wovyn... have you ever eaten before?"

"A bit. Cookies mostly, although I used to eat the veggies of a child that didn't want them. Those were a bit weird. Oh, and I love bread! And chips. But candies are too much."

"That's not a lot. Never ate a cake? Or a pasty?"

"Cakes I sometimes could eat crumbs on birthdays."

"Kids didn't share those with you?"

"Nah... but I didn't mind. Dreams taste nice too. And you, what did you eat in your life?"

Olive snorted at the questions. He didn't mean that in a mean way, it was just that... well... Cooking was quite literally his entire life. It wasn't a passion great enough to make him open a restaurant, or so he thought (being depressed most of the time didn't help either). Cooking had, without a doubt, saved his life. It cleared his mind, made him busy enough not to focus on things he didn't want to focus on, and those things might or might not have included suicidal thoughts. Feeling that he could be useful and not some useless drag for society had also played a part in it. Asking how many different foods he had eaten was like asking him how many numbers he had calculated for his job.

"A lot," he eventually answered. "Probably every single food you can ever think of."

"Fried grasshoppers?"

"What? Er... that too," lied Oliver.

"Oh wow. How did they taste?"

"Like... erm... they were crunchy and tasted like salad. But grilled salad." Bugs ate grass, right? Wouldn't it be normal for them to taste like what they ate?

"Someday, I'll eat some too."

"You got to catch a lot of them first. That only happens in the countryside, in the fields. We are in a city, grasshoppers aren't available around here."

"Aw. Sucks."

"Yeah!" Oliver laughed nervously. He was a really bad liar and it was good that Wovyn was so gullible. "It's just too bad."

"But if I did happen to catch a lot of them... Would you cook them for me?"

"Well, yes." That was never going to happen. "I'll definitely do that."

Wovyn grinned at him. There was something mischevious about it as if he knew very well that there was no way Oliver knew how to cook grasshoppers. But that would be impossible, he simply wouldn't have any way of knowing that.

"I could get used to this," said Wovyn out of the blue.

"This?"

"Talking to you like that. You're still a little weird sometimes, but I guess humans become a little weird when they are adults. You're just, like extra weird compared to others."

"I am perfectly normal, then you," answered Oliver defensively. "You would have to define weird to be able to argue the contrary."

"Doesn't try to make his friends disappear."

Now, Oliver didn't really want to admit that Wovyn was his friend but saying the contrary would make him a textbook jerk. "That's a weak argument, considering you aren't real."

"Also, people usually don't have everything in black and white only. And also things don't have a spot in the cabinet with its name written on it."

"I just like when things are clean and clear."

"If I were a human, I would buy you pretty plastic flowers and have them put in a colorful vase on your kitchen table. And then, I would give you a bunch of cacti in pots. You seem like the type that like them because they don't shed leaves."

Oliver opened the pan and moved the chicken around, embarrassed that some bedroom monster could describe him so perfectly after having known him for a day.

"That still makes you a bit weird, though," continued Wovyn. "But it's not that bad of a type of weird. It's just weird that you can talk about liking me this morning and then returned to being icky about looking at me and touching me when you come back home."

Oliver almost dropped his spoon. It's just that he had made an effort not to outright ogle Wovyn. As anyone with decent manners would!

"You do know that if I didn't want you to look at my chest I would have found a shirt already." There was a slightly annoyed tone in Wovyn's voice. "Well, I lost the last one before meeting you, but shirts can be found. I just need something my size."

"Wait up. Are you telling me that you aren't usually shirtless?"

"No? I mean, I don't think it would be appropriate around kids..."

"We are getting you a shirt tomorrow."

"What? No!" Wovyn raised to his full height. "I won't wear it!"

"You'll be wearing a shirt," said Oliver with his spoon pointed at his guest. "Or they will be no dinner for you."

"What? But you can't make me starve! That's why I'm saying you're weird, I thought you liked me!"

"Well, your... chest is distracting!"

"My chest is fine." Wovyn donned a smug air. "If I may say so myself."

"No one likes vanity," muttered Oliver. He was now very red in the face as he checked his chicken. "It's finished cooking, I just need to throw them in together." He checked on the carrots, then the rice and the cream sauce. All were finished, so he grabbed a couple of places and put a portion on each plate.

Wovyn was jumping in place.

"Why don't you go wash your hands?" Heavens knew where he had put them, thought Oliver. "There is soap by the sink."

It seems that Wovyn knew how to wash his hands, which he did humming. Oliver glanced at him as he had his back turned. His tail was lower than what he had expected, for it went through his shorts rather than on top of it. It seemed that Wovyn had some sort of sewing skills, as he had adapted the shorts to his convenience; there were two mismatched buttons in the back of his shorts over his tail, to close and open it.

Also, he had a nice butt. When Oliver realized that he was staring, he quickly looked away.

Nothing more was said that could be called interesting until they sat down at the kitchen table together. Wovyn clearly was very enthusiastic about his large portion of food. However, Oliver quickly noticed that he seemed unsure about how to use a knife and a fork.

"You hold the knife in your dominant hand," said Oliver. "That's the hand you use to write... to do most things."

"Oh." Wovyn switched hands, then carefully observed the way Oliver was holding his cutlery.

He started to eat soon afterward. He tried to stab a grain of rice with his knife before realizing he needed to scoop it, then tried to scoop the carrots and their cream sauce but they fell constantly. As for the chicken, his first reaction was to try and eat the whole piece with his fingers; Oliver stopped him just in time and showed him how to cut it.

"I'm full," suddenly declared Wovyn.

"What?" said Oliver, looking at his plate. He had only gone through half of his potion, and there was still more in the pans.

"I can't eat another bite." He looked down frowning. "I thought I would be able to."

"And what am I going to do with all the food I made?"

"I don't know. Leftovers. I can't eat it all, even if it is delicious."

"Then it's best that we get you in the bath, then," said Oliver.

Wovyn suddenly didn't look too reassured. "Is that really necessary?"

"It is. But if you don't like it as much, then you can take a shower. My bathroom can do both. Would a shower be better?"

"Maybe... Wovyn smiled weakly. "I'll try."

Oliver suspected that something was up, but didn't ask. He didn't think that it would be his place to do so. It might have avoided him some trouble if he had, but he didn't know that yet.


	8. The Shower

"So, you turn the water to hot here, and then you turn it to cold there. Easy," explained Oliver. He turned around to his guest with the soap. "And make sure to use this."

Wovyn, tight-lipped, nodded.

"If there is a problem, you call me." Oliver slowly backed away towards the door. "I'll be in the kitchen packing away all the leftovers for tomorrow." Tomorrow? More like the entire weekend. That would teach him to overestimate Wovyn's appetite.

Wovyn nodded again. He really didn't seem too sure about the water. Oliver felt the need to help, whatever it was, but the impulse to get the hell out of his own bathroom before the imp got full naked was stronger. So he fleed like a coward to the kitchen and went to do what he had said he would do.

"You have gone fully mad," he muttered to himself. "If your mother knew, she would send you straight to the hospital." And she would make sure that he wasn't to come out before he was entirely medicated and willing to take all the pills that he needed to take. Not that he would tell her anything. This was just a little experiment.

And he was behaving like a fool too. A man his age, with his attractions, was supposed to be a little more at ease with another man's nakedness. He knew how it was all built, damnit, so why was he so embarrassingly shy? He had heard that homosexuals were supposed to be quite lustful and without taboo. His mother had sometimes commented on it in front of him. Not in a hateful way, he justified, just that she thought that men were necessarily obsessed with sex. "After all," she told her son, "your father only seems to want that from me, he's a little emotionally inept. It's a good thing that there are women in this world! Except you, my darling. You are an exceptionally sensitive boy."

Maybe that was the key, he thought to himself. He was so sensitive that it buried his base instincts. Or maybe they weren't entirely buried. It was glaringly obvious that he would have never done this deal with Wovyn if he hadn't been attractive.

Talking about Wovyn, he wasn't hearing the shower...

"Oliver?" called the imp from the bathroom. "Can you come?"

He should have seen it coming. He reluctantly packed the last of his leftover in the fridge and made his way to the bathroom door.

"Is something the problem?" he asked.

There was a short silence. "I don't like water."

"What do you mean you don't like water?"

"I don't like it. It feels weird and icky."

"Wovyn, you are getting clean and there is no going around it."

"Then you need to hold my hand."

Oliver took a few moments to process what he had told him. Hold his hand. As he was in the shower. Naked. He felt himself turn bright red as he imagined the scene.

"That's not happening!" he cried.

"But I don't like it, I need someone to erm... emotional support. I need emotional support."

"I can't hold your hand while you are taking a shower, Wovyn - literally! You are going to have to do it on your own."

There was a whine from the bathroom. It sounded like something halfway between a strangled mewl and a dog's cry; whatever it was, it was very pitiful and broke Oliver's heart. He instantly felt bad that he was forcing this poor creature to wash when he was obviously not used to it. In the name of what did he make him do something that unsettled him? His own comfort?

"All right, but just this time," said Oliver.

"Thank you!" replied Wovyn in a sing-song voice. "You're very very very nice, Oliver."

Oliver himself, on the other hand, didn't fare so well himself. He gulped, drew a deep breath, and pushed the door. And even if he had sworn to himself that he wouldn't look, he couldn't stop himself from glancing down quickly. His eyes were drawn to it.

Oh dear. Wovyn was well endowed.

He chastised himself for thinking that but that didn't help: the more he told himself not to think about it, the more he did, and the more he blushed. So, in the end, he stayed standing there, staring out in the emptiness as he moved his weight from one foot to the other. Wovyn, patient, watched him do, smiling with big, seemingly clueless eyes.

"Let's get you in there," said Oliver suddenly. "Hop in and I'll turn on the water."

Wovyn stepped in the tub then waited. Oliver did his best to reach around him to reach the tap while not looking at his... Nakedness. He could feel the temptation pull at him. He swore he wouldn't look again. He turned the water on.

Wovyn shrieked and jumped five feet in the air when the cold water hit his back. That landed him on the other side of the room. One more jump and he was crouched on the toilet, glaring at the stream of water.

"Oh!" said Oliver. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I forget that not everyone stands under the water until it heats up."

"You do what?" shrieked the imp. "Why would anyone do that?"

"It fortifies the immune system!"

"It's cold! You are bongo in the head!"

"I'm sorry... I really am. I forgot."

Wovyn looked at the water that was still running, then at Oliver. "It's okay. I forgive you."

"Ah... That's nice." Oliver checked the water. "It's warm now, do you want to try it?"

Wovyn got down from the toilet seat and advanced slowly. Oliver did well: this time, he could keep his eyes on the imp's face until glancing down would have been too obvious for the other not to notice. The creature then reached out and tested the water with a finger, before withdrawing quickly and hissing.

"Too hot?" said Oliver quickly. "Let me just... I'll change it quickly."

It took a few more adjustments for Wovyn to accept to step into the stream once more, and when he did he made a face. Oliver was persuaded that if he was a cat, all his fur would stand on end. Not that he had any fur on him, except... No, he refused to let his mind go there again. He was just helping out a guest to get in the shower because he obviously wasn't comfortable with it.

"Can I hold your hand a little?" asked Wovyn.

Oliver smiled and reached out. He had pulled the curtain so that water wouldn't end on the floor but the opening he left was large enough for him to reach inside. The imp's grip on his hand was right at first, then it relaxed. Slowly. He was adjusting. Meanwhile, Olive turned around and looked away, giving himself a well-earned respite from Wovyn's nudity.

"Can you help me wash my back too?"

The question prompted Oliver to look at him. Wovyn was entirely soaked now and looked a lot less tense than when he had first entered. In fact, he was even smiling hopefully. How could anyone say no to this face?

"Of course," answered Oliver.

He realized, too late, that he had just agreed to wash Wovyn's naked body. Oh, he was an idiot. How many times was he going to have to fall for those big, yellow eyes to realize that he was one?

Wovyn hummed happily and turned around after having handed him the soap and turned off the water. "I'll do the front and you will do the back."

Thank god, thought Oliver, he did the back. He looked at Wovyn's sculpted back, the strong and defined muscles that allowed him to move as gracefully as he did, all of them alert and right under the skin. There wasn't a gram of grease on that back; it could have belonged to an Olympian athlete.

Oh god, thought Oliver, he did the back.

"What are you waiting for?" asked Wovyn. "Get slippery!"

Oliver swallowed slowly and nodded, before rubbing the soap to get some on his palms. He put it back in its tray slowly. He placed his hands on the imp's shoulder blades.

Oh god, he thought, oh god, oh god, why did he have to get so aroused from just touching some guy's back? But he was so strong and warm, and so tall too. Oliver had never thought about how sexy it was to imagine being overpowered by someone. There was something raw and savage about that. For all of Wovyn's endearing actions, he was a creature that no one would cross idly. If he wanted Oliver, wanted him enough to force him, Oliver would have no way of resisting.

He made his way down Wovyn's back, rubbing carefully to make sure that he wasn't missing a spot. He wasn't quite sure if that was right because of all the soap that was still on him, but Wovyn's skin was changing color. Or rather, it was appearing truer to its nature once the grim was being removed. It was still dark but bluer and almost iridescent. Or at least it changed subtly depending on the angle of the light. It was fascinating to look at. Oliver wasn't sure that the changes were enough to be called iridescent.

He was drawn out of his thoughts when Wovyn's tail wrapped around his leg and looked down at it in surprise. It left wet traces on his pants, which should have upset him, but he wasn't mad about it. He wondered what that could mean. Was that an accident?

"Why did you stop?" asked Wovyn with a glance over his shoulder.

"Oh!" Oliver hadn't noticed that he had. "Your tail..."

"That old thing!" Wovyn chuckled. "When it finds things it likes, it holds on them. That's just normal."

The tail held on tighter and Oliver felt himself blush. That was a compliment, right? He was pretty sure that it was supposed to be one. He had no words to answer, so he said nothing and resumed the soaping.

That was until his hands traveled even lower.

Oliver had not, up to now, paid a lot of attention to Wovyn's butt. Now that he was wondering if he was supposed to touch it, he was realizing that it was a very, very nice butt, a strong butt. Seriously, why was Wovyn so buff as a bedroom monster? Wovyn had mentioned something about fighting off scarier monsters earlier. Oliver then imagined the imp wrestling a nightmarish creature bravely and felt his blush deepen. It must be nice to feel protected by someone this strong when you were a kid.

Wovyn signed. "Fine, I'll do my own butt if you don't want to touch it," he said.

That jolted Oliver out of his reverie. "I wasn't--"

"You'll get to touch it later if you want, don't worry."

The imp turned around and took care of everything under the belt. Oliver saw him touch bits he wished he had not seen him touch before he mustered the will to look away. Oh god, now he played it again and again in his mind's eye. It was becoming very clear that the imp didn't have any shame about his body.

Oliver looked again when he heard the water running. He caught glimpses of Wovyn making a face as the water ran down his body. He didn't seem to like the contact very much but at least he was rinsing. The soap washed away, revealing that Oliver's earlier observation about the color of the creature's skin had been true.

"It's really beautiful," said Oliver.

Wovyn looked at him, surprised.

"Your skin, that is."

"Oh, thanks." The imp gave him a smile full of fangs. "If you like it, then I might make a good effort to keep it clean." 

Oliver nodded and looked away, shy once more. It was soon finished, he thought, soon finished. He hoped that the fact that he was half-hard wasn't too obvious. He didn't really know how to hide that in the first place, so he just stood there awkwardly.

Suddenly he was lifted and pulled under the stream.

Wovyn giggled madly, very pleased by his joke when Oliver cried out in shock. The latter quickly stepped out of the tub but it was too late: his clothes were already soaked.

"Oh god," cried Oliver. "Why did you do that?"

"Surprise!" said Wovyn with a lopsided grin. "Oh, and your shirt is see-through. That's very nice."

"That... you... don't do that!" Oliver was sputtering. "You don't just put clothes people in showers!"

Something in his expression must have told the imp that he was genuinely mad, for Wovyn's smile vanished and he leaned against the wall awkwardly. "Sorry," he muttered. "I thought it would be funny. I'm sorry."

Oliver passed a hand in his hair and glanced at himself. There was no way he was going to wet the hallway by stepping out of the bathroom like that. (His floors were all washed! He didn't want to make more of a mess.) He couldn't afford to wait to dry either because the clock was ticking dangerously close to his bedtime. What would he do if he missed sleep? That would be terrible. (Never mind that he had no work on the next day. It was a matter of principle.)

The only option left was to change.

"Don't come out of the bathroom until you are dry," said Oliver. He had already given Wovyn a tower that was waiting next to his on the rack.

And then, awkwardly, with his back turned to the imp, he started to unbutton his shirt. He stipped quickly, not wanting to torture himself any longer than necessary, and fled the bathroom in his underwear. He could have sworn that Wovyn had started to purr at some point, but he had not even dared to look.

He was a coward. The sentiment followed him as he went through the motions of preparing himself for bed, up until the point where he turned off the light and snuggled under the sheets.


	9. All Night Long

Oliver was very fun to mess with, that was for sure. In fact, Oliver might be the funniest human Wovyn had ever met. Kids were great and all, but they didn't have the added excitement of being sexually available. Mixing in some seducing with his usual playfulness was a delight.  
  
For example: the shower. It was true that water felt weird when it was poured down on him (not as weird as when he sat in it, but still) but he had certainly not _needed_ Oliver's hand to go through the ordeal. But Oliver had still fallen for that! He was so funny, he always believed it when Wovyn lied to him. Not that Wovyn lied a lot to him... only to fluster him. And it had worked! Wovyn had taken each shy glance to his nudity as a compliment. On top of that, Oliver's blush was lovely. It made him look more lickable than his cookies.  
  
But it seemed that taking him under the shower had been one step too far. Wovyn didn't really regret it because for some reason Oliver had decided that it was best to undress in front of him, but he understood that Oliver had not liked that. It was best to give him a little time to cool down, thought the imp so that there was no risk for any sort of backlash. That's why he waits so long to make a move - until after Oliver was asleep, even. Or in bed at least. Wovyn couldn't tell if he was asleep yet or not.

Imps possessed a variety of powers. Great imps were especially good at slipping in impossibly tight spaces, like cracks between furniture and walls. From the outside, Wovyn knew, it looked like he became incredibly thin to fit in them but, from his point of view, it was as if the world was distorting itself to let him through. This was very useful when he needed to hide. No kid had ever gotten the better of him at hide and seek.  
  
That was why no door could stop him, even when it was closed. There was a space large enough to slip one finger under the door; that was enough for Wovyn to come in, once he was dried and dressed. He crouched once he was in the room, readjusting some loose strand of hair behind his ear before continuing. Oliver was in his bed with his back to the door.  
  
Wovyn grinned and climbed next to him. Like the first night, he partly flopped on him, one arm over the human's torso. That made him stir. It seemed that he had been sleeping after all.  
  
"Go away," he muttered tiredly.  
  
Wovyn was a good imp, so Wovyn obeyed. He rolled to the other side of the bed, making it crack lightly under his weight. And then he waited for a little while touching the soft pads of his feet and playing with the tip of his tail, bored. When he estimated that he had waited the correct amount of time before trying his luck again, he rolled back over Oliver in the same position as before.  
  
Obviously, he was hoping for some sort of action. Oliver had told him this morning that he was interested in him, damnit! Wovyn was more than ready to jump in bed with him if that was what Oliver wanted... but he wasn't sure if that was what Oliver wanted. It was hard to tell. Humans were not quite as simple as imps when it came to those issues.  
  
Oliver didn't react as fast as he had the first time, and when he did it was different. Instead of protesting against Wovyn's advances, he turned around and looked at him. The imp felt his ears perk up as he tried to read the human's expression. He seemed... interested? Only interested in looking at him but that was a start.  
  
After a while, Oliver reached up and stroked Wovyn's cheek. His fingers followed the line of his jaw then slipped behind his ear, feeling the knot of muscles that allowed it to move at its base. The soft touch made the imp shiver a little and close his eyes to enjoy it. Curious, Oliver combed through Wovyn's messy hair and roamed his hand over his shoulder, touching Wovyn's freshly washed skin.  
  
"You smell nicer than before," said the human.  
  
"Thank you." Wovyn didn't really like the scent of soap on him, it disturbed his sensitive nose, but if Oliver liked it then he might grow used to it. "You smell nice too, even without a bath."  
  
"I'm glad."  
  
He returned his touch to Wovyn's ear. The scratches made light, pleasant shivers spark down his spine. Wovyn, eyes still closed, started to purr.  
  
"I remember my under the bed monster," said Oliver. "Her name was Tally. She didn't like to talk to me much, but I knew that she was watching over me at night."  
  
"I don't know any Tally."  
  
"It was a long time ago. I don't think that we ever said goodbye. I just remember that one day, I realized that I had not seen her for a while, and that was it. But I kept seeing other creatures when kids my age didn't."  
  
Wovyn opened his eyes to watch the human telling his story. Oliver wasn't looking at him, his eyes were on the ceiling.  
  
"That's when my visions went downhill.. when the ghosts took notice of me, that was. When they would realize that I could see and hear them, they would go after me. They tried to talk to me. Some were okay I guess... but some were weird. And some were downright scary. I saw some other things too... some like you. Things that aren't quite human, that was. But they left me alone most of the time."  
  
"What did the ghosts want from you?"  
  
"All kind of things. Most of them wanted to talk to me because they were bored. Some others wanted me to deliver messages to their families, you know, like in movies. The really creepy ones, however... they just watched. I used to think that, well, they had been ghosts for such a long time that they had forgotten how humans acted. Or maybe they came from a time where customs were different. I was just a kid so I was pretty freaked out. That's why my mom decided to bring me to the doctor."  
  
"But you're not sick."  
  
"They consider it a disability. It's not technically a sickness. You can't cure it, you can only help it."  
  
Was that this story about Wovyn not being real again? That annoyed the imp but he only hit his tail against the sheet to show it. Not real his butt. Wovyn knew he was real.  
  
"Was it the doctor that gave you the medicine?" asked Wovyn.  
  
"Well, yes, but he only did that later. I couldn't take it while I was a kid - it would have been too much for my body and it would have messed me up. But he did give me a lot of advice on how to deal with it. For example, if I ignored them and pretended that they weren't there, then they wouldn't talk to me. He told me, again and again, that they weren't real people so it was okay to ignore them. Even if I could touch them sometimes, that was all my mind playing tricks on me."  
  
Wovyn felt as if he understood Oliver a little better. He was used to kids growing up and being unable to see him someday. It must have been hard for him to attract all this attention when he was too old to have a monster to protect him. Usually, ghosts didn't both little kids because of how protective their imps were of them. A kid without one and that could interact with them was a walking target for the wrong crowd.  
  
"Everything went well for a while," continued to explain Oliver. "I would make a small mistake from time to time, but when ghosts started to follow me around once they had realized that I could see them I would tell them to please go to the light or to leave me alone. And then one day - I think that I must have been thirteen? - a really scary monster found me."  
  
"Was it a scary ghost?"  
  
"I don't think so. To this day I am not quite sure, but I'm certain that she wasn't a ghost. She was too monstrous for that. I had seen many things but she... she had so many teeth. When she opened her jaws wide she split in two down to her shoulders. The way she moved was like the twitching of something that was dying. And she had no eyes - just empty sockets. She looked like something from a nightmare."  
  
"She was a ghoul? Did she live in a graveyard?"  
  
"Maybe. I wouldn't know. She was so scary, I couldn't look away from her. That's how she noticed me - she was a real nightmare. She would follow me everywhere and she was so creepy. I would find her in places where I expected her the least a lot of the time. There were some periods where she disappeared for a while, even weeks, and then she would be back. I always knew when she was back. She liked to move my stuff around, just enough that I would notice it. She never spoke too... well, she didn't talk _at_ me. She screamed words sometimes, mostly to scare me, so she could talk."  
  
This was definitely a ghoul. He had seen them before, from far. It was a good thing that they didn't need to prey on children to survive because in a fight against a great imp they would be pretty evenly matched. That didn't mean that they weren't out for mischief - the bad type of mischief, the one that never, ever stopped. Wovyn growled at the mere idea of dealing with one.  
  
That made Oliver chuckle. "Don't worry. I haven't seen her in years. Once I started to take the medicine she disappeared - with all my other troubles. And I never stopped taking it so that I would never have to deal with her again."  
  
"Until today," added Wovyn. "But now you got _me_ to protect you!"  
  
This last line felt like a good excuse to snuggle up to Oliver, so that's what he did. He nestled against the human over the blanket, placed his head in the crook of his neck, and started to purr. Oliver laughed when he did that. It was a very nice laugh, it made Wovyn feel happy.  
  
"You are certainly not as scary as she was at least. That's all I'm asking for."  
  
"I can be scary when I am mad. Super scary."  
  
"I have no doubt that you are."  
  
"But with you, I am very, very nice." Wovyn rose his head to look at Oliver in the eyes. His hand stroked the human's side through the covers. "I would never hurt you. I only want to make you feel good."  
  
Oliver blushed. "Well, um, that's very nice of you."  
  
Wovny licked his lips. Oliver looked so tasty when he got all shy like that he had to try something. He leaned in and nuzzled Oliver's ear and then slowly traveled towards his mouth... but then he was stopped by a hand.  
  
"I'm not sure that I am ready," said Oliver. "To go very far, that is. Not tonight."  
  
Wovyn whined lightly.  
  
Oliver bit his lip. "Well, maybe for a kiss. Imps kiss right?"  
  
"They do." Unable to wait any longer, Wovyn pulled Oliver's hand away and kissed him on the lips.  
  
He was soft. Of course he was. He was so polished and smooth - that made Wovyn want to mess him up all over - that it was almost impossible to imagine that he would be anything other than soft. The problem was that he froze up the moment their lips touched and just stayed laying there. Wovyn would have gladly pushed it further but he was too taken aback by how tense Oliver was.  
  
He pulled off the poor human. "Are you scared?"  
  
"No... I mean, I'm nervous."  
  
Wovyn's brows rose. "Nervous about what?"  
  
"Well..." Oliver cleared his throat. "It's my first kiss... in a while."  
  
Wovyn chuckled.  
  
"It's not my first kiss!"  
  
"Do you like it?" Wovyn pulled Oliver closer against him.  
  
"Now don't be fishing for compliments," muttered the human. "That's not very becoming of you."  
  
"Let's try a second time." He kissed him again.  
  
This time Oliver made an effort to relax but it was limited. Wovyn stroked his shoulder and neck gently to soothe him. He was starting to understand that Oliver needed things to be soft... very soft. Not that he minded doing that. Wovyn was the king of soft, no one would even be softer than him. His efforts paid out when Oliver finally passed an arm around his neck and sighed through the nose.  
  
"Well?" asked the imp as he pulled again.  
  
"That was... better," said Oliver. He couldn't look at the other in the eye but his blush was quite lovely.  
  
"I could spend all night kissing you."  
  
"All night! I hope you won't try. I need to sleep."  
  
"It's boring when you sleep," said Wovyn. "I like you best when you are awake. Then I get to coax you into sex."  
  
"All right, we are done here," said Oliver as he pushed the imp. "I need to sleep."  
  
Wovyn whimpered in the same was he had done when he had wanted Oliver to come in during his shower. It might have worked if his stomach had not growled loudly as he did it.

"Oh... Oh dear," said Oliver. "Are you hungry?"  
  
"A little," admitted Wovyn. In reality, he was ravenous as if he had never had dinner at all.  
  
"There is some food in the fridge..." Oliver made them both stand up from the bed and went to the kitchen to show Wovyn. "In here, in the Tupperware. You are free to take from here, those are the leftovers from dinner."  
  
Wovyn started to purr loudly. The dinner had been delicious, he couldn't wait to eat more of it.  
  
Oliver put out a plate for him and heated up a large portion in the microwave before sitting down to watch the imp dig in. He kept yawning and Wovyn wanted to tell him to go back to bed but at the same time he liked the company.  
  
"Not hungry anymore," said Wovyn as he pushed away his plate.  
  
"Again?" cried Oliver. "There is at least half of it left!"  
  
"I'm going to _explode_," said the imp dramatically.  
  
"Oh hush you. All right, I get it." Oliver was smiling as he said that. He really was prettier when he smiled. "I'll put it back and you can get some more when you are hungry again. I suppose that since you aren't used to eating, your stomach must not be used to having a lot of food."  
  
"Oh..." That made sense. "You're so smart, Oliver."  
  
That made him blush. "Oh no, just a bit of logical deduction. I know a bit about trying to eat less from a few years ago. That was when I was trying to lose weight."  
  
Trying to lose weight? Oliver had been fat? Wovyn tried to imagine him like that, but it was hard. He was small - compared to the towering imp - but athletic. Wovyn had seen him almost naked: there was some definition under those clothes. Also, his ass looked fantastic even in pants. Whatever he had done a few years back Wovyn very much approved of it.  
  
Oliver showed him how to clean everything up properly, so that Wovyn wouldn't make a mess, and told him what he could eat and what he couldn't. There were the leftovers of the dinner of course, but also some almond snacks and dried fruits that laid around. Wovyn didn't really like dried fruits but he figured that if he was _really_ hungry he would be grateful for them. Physical food was complicated.  
  
"Time to go back to bed I guess," said Oliver with a yawn. "Tomorrow we'll be making cookies."  
  
"Real cookies this time?" gasped Wovyn.  
  
"Hey, just because some cookies are spicy doesn't mean that they are fake cookies."  
  
"But what are cookies for if I can't eat them?"  
  
Oliver rolled his eyes. "All right, fine. Yes, they will be real cookies. Simple ones. With chocolate chips."  
  
"Deli-scrabulous_,_" cried Wovyn. "Thank you!"  
  
"Deli... what?" Oliver didn't get his answer. Instead, he was squashed into a sculpted chest by powerful arms. "Oof, careful there, I'm not made of bricks."  
  
"I'm so happy! I love cookies."  
  
"I noticed." Oliver struggled to get away and Wovyn let him go. "Now what time-- It's ten! Oh dear, it's so late. I need to get to bed as soon as possible."  
  
"At ten?"  
  
"Of course!"  
  
Wovyn laughed. "You're so funny sometimes."  
  
Oliver scoffed. "There is nothing funny about missing sleep." He turned around and walked down the hallway.  
  
Wovyn followed. He had met five years old that went to bed later than Oliver with less enthusiasm. He thought it to be quite entertaining. Besides, he was looking forward to being snuggled again in bed.  
  
As if he had read his thoughts, Oliver turned around before entering the room. "No more kissing."  
  
"What? But I want to!"  
  
"No!" Oliver rose a finger to warn him. "You won't be making me fall for your tricks. In fact, I think that you should be sleeping on the couch just to be sure."  
  
Wovyn made his ears flop down and whimpered pitifully. Oliver's face screwed up in regret. Making him fall for the puppy dog face was too easy for this trick not to be abused remorselessly on Wovyn's part.  
  
"All right, you can come. But you will be sleeping on your side, and I don't want you to cause any trouble."  
  
Wovyn perked up. He was used to sleeping under beds anyway so being allowed on it was an upgrade. Even the couch would have been a step up.  
  
"I won't be bothering you in the night," said the imp. "Cross my heart."  
  
"Good."  
  
Wovyn smirked the moment Oliver had his back turned to him. Not that he intended to break his promise. He was just thinking about how the sun would rise eventually; his promise wouldn't count anymore then.


	10. Breakfast in Bed

For all Wovyn's daydreaming of kissing Oliver awake, Oliver ended up being the one that was up first. Of course! It was Oliver, after all. Even if it was Saturday, he would rather be caught making a mess than sleeping in.  
  
To escape from the bed, however, was another story. Wovyn was spread out on the sheets, sleeping soundly, right on the way Oliver needed to take to have access to the floor. The man, on all four, crawled over each unimaginably long limb before he was able to escape. Luckily for him, it seems that the imp was a heavy sleeper. He didn't stir, not even once.  
  
Oliver usually changed in his daytime clothes as soon as he was awake but the fact that Wovyn slept right there stopped him. He couldn't stop imagining what would happen if he was caught changing. Even if they had already found themselves in a similar situation the night before, it was best not to tempt his luck. Oliver escaped to the kitchen in his pijamas.   
  
Moments later, the water boiler was running and he was pulling out bread and jams out of his storage. He noticed in passing that all the leftovers from last night had been eaten and the plate licked clean. He chuckled at this discovery and placed the used dishes in the washing machine. Just because Wovyn didn't have the stomach for a full meal didn't mean that he had any less of an appetite. He was glad that, in the end, he had been sensible enough to make a lot.  
  
This made him think of what they had done last night. Not much, one might say, but this was without considering that this was the first time in years that Oliver had kissed anyone. His little crushes when he was a teen had been so long ago, and those had been, for the most part, girls. It wasn't a surprise that they had not worked out. He had still received some advances from women (since he wasn't out) but he had politely declined them, knowing that he wouldn't be able to make them happy and that they deserved better. He didn't know how he would have reacted if a man as sexy as Wovyn would have done the same thing.  
  
Just like he didn't know how to react now. How far should he push this? Should he pursue this relationship? Should he let Wovyn kiss him... and more? It was so confusing. But a few days ago, he would have turned his nose up on himself and called himself bananas for even considering it.  
  
But him a few days ago had not met Wovyn. He had not seen his smile, felt the tickle of his breath or felt those big yellow eyes on him. Wovyn as a person appealed to him. Warmed his heart. And turned him on terribly. He very much was perfect despite being an imp. If he was perfect, did it really matter if he wasn't real? He didn't feel imaginary. He drew real reactions from Oliver at least, and that was what mattered in a relationship, right?  
  
This was messed up, though Oliver as he massaged his temples. He couldn't get in a relationship no one else saw, that was the surest way to be sent to the psychiatric hospital if anyone found out. If his mother found out. Oh heavens, if his mother found out she would be so deceived in him.  
  
But he wasn't living with her anymore, reasoned another part of him. He had lived alone for too long. Some days it was easy to ignore the loneliness but sometimes... coming back to an empty home every night could lead his mind to dark places. It could make him wonder if he was likable at all. He was glad that he had company now, that it kept the bad thoughts at bay. It was no one's buisness if that company happened to be a figment of his imagination. Whatever he did in the privacy of his home only concerned him after all, and that was a final.  
  
That brought up the question of what to do with said company, or rather what he was going to let him do to him. When Wovyn kissed him, it was intense. The feelings were overwhelming and so powerful they became scary. Yet he liked it. He liked it a lot. It was unlike anything he had had before. If he was honest with himself, he really wanted an encore. It scared him that he did because he still wasn't sure that it was a good idea to grow too attached, but he could think about that later. Anything could happen in the meantime.   
  
He looked at the food he had laid out on the table in front of him and had an idea. A tray was pulled out of storage. Time for breakfast in bed.

Wovyn most certainly had not budged despite the noise coming from the kitchen. Oliver watched him from the door smiling, watching him sleep as if nothing in the world could wake him up. Wovyn was cute. Like a cat.  
  
Yet, when he moved towards the imp the sound was enough to make him stir and open one lazy eye. Wovyn quickly sat upright with a huge grin as his tail swung around in excitement.   
  
"Hungry again?" asked Oliver.  
  
The other eagerly nodded in response.  
  
"Good, because I took some for you. Just take the tray for a moment and let me sit next to you, and we can eat together."  
  
But the moment Oliver approached, Wovyn tried to go on for a kiss. The sudden movement made Oliver back away and almost spill some tea.  
  
"I wanted to morning kiss you," said Wovyn quickly. "It's not night anymore. I wanted to kiss you awake."  
  
Oliver blinked a few times before a small chuckle escaped his lips. "I always wake up early."  
  
"No fair."  
  
Oliver laughed and gave him the tray again, this time with no incident. He then had to climb over the imp, which he did carefully. He didn't want to step on him or worse: touch him in a way that could be interpreted as a flirt. His heart was pounding in his chest. Something was going to happen between the two of them now, he just knew it.  
  
Once he was settled down next to the imp, he pulled the tray on his lap again and swatted Wovyn's hand away from the bare bread.  
  
"Wait that I put some things on there at least," said Oliver.  
  
Wovyn grumbled in playful protest and snuggled up to him. Oliver's poor heart couldn't beat faster, but he did his best to focus on buttering the bread slices and picking some jams for it.  
  
The imp kissed him right at the corner of the jaw and Oliver almost dropped what he was holding. "Wovyn! What are you doing?"  
  
The latter just chuckled deeply and scooted closer. He pressed his nose through his curls while passing an arm around him. He didn't answer the human's question but what he was attempting to do was pretty clear.  
  
"Now is not the time, Wovyn, not if you want to have breakfast." They weren't getting fed if they were kissing.  
  
"Breakfast later," said Wovyn. He grabbed the handles of the tray, one with his hand and one with his tail, and put it behind him, out of Oliver's reach. "I've found something tastier."  
  
Oliver blushed deeply. "Well I'm-- Breakfast is important, it's the most important meal of the day and--"  
  
Wovyn leaned in and kissed him. He was sweet when he did so, tugging on Oliver's lips to part then. He didn't get upset when Oliver, so easily overwhelmed, didn't open his mouth for him, instead he pulled away and kissed him on the cheek and neck. Oliver wasn't quite sure what he should do but he could feel the desire for more budding inside of him. He reached for Wovyn and kissed him again on the lips. He even cupped his hand around the imp's cheek as they did in the movies.  
  
"That's a very good breakfast," said Wovyn. A hand went up to Oliver's collar to fiddle with the first button.  
  
Oliver felt his cheeks heat up again, but let him do. The imp's fingers undid three buttons before it slipped into his shirt, running over the light chest hair there and over his shoulders. He was just as soft as he always was - as if he didn't want to frighten his human. Oliver appreciated that. It was like slipping in a bath that was too warm - slowly did the trick.  
  
"How far can I go today?" asked Wovyn.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"I don't think you will say yes to all," said Wovyn. "So I am asking. How far can I go?"  
  
"Uh..." Oliver looked down at himself. He was a bit at loss. "Down my chest?"  
  
Wovyn licked his lips. Actually_ licked his lips_ like he was a tasty little piece of morsel presented to him. With how big he was and all the sharp teeth in his maw, he looked physically capable of eating him and for some reason that made Oliver's breath pick up and blood rush to his cheeks. He was in far over his head this time, and he didn't even have the good excuse that he needed sleep. He could still say that he didn't feel like it... but did he really?  
  
Oliver didn't have the leisure to think about what that meant before Wovyn got to work on the rest of his buttons, all the way down until there were no more buttons to undo. The moment Oliver's chest was exposed, he latched on it, kissing a path down it while his hand caressed it. Oliver produced a muffled gasp when he felt Wovyn's fingers tugged on a nipple. Moments later, a hot mouth was closing over it.  
  
This had been a mistake. Oliver looked down and saw two yellow eyes looking back at him as the imp dragged his tongue over that spot. This felt so much more intense than what he had expected it to be, he was going to--  
  
The moan escaped his lips before he could stop it. Oliver covered his mouth, mortified, and Wovyn had to laugh. He pressed his forehead on Oliver's chest and laid there chuckling.  
  
"You're too cute, I can't," eventually muttered the imp. "You should have seen your face."  
  
"I'd like to see you try," muttered Oliver, a little upset that the other seemed to be mocking him.  
  
"You are more than welcome to try anything you want on me," said Wovyn in a low voice. "Anything."  
  
Oliver blushed. "No thanks. I'll just... I'm hungry."  
  
"Then let's play a game."  
  
Oliver looked at him suspiciously. Wovyn gave him his biggest, most innocent smile.  
  
"What sort of game do you have in mind?"  
  
"If you pay me with enough kisses I'll give the tray back."  
  
"That's not a game!" Oliver reached for the tray over Wovyn but his hand was swatted away by the imp's tail. "Ouch!"  
  
"You're trying to escape by eating after you told me I could touch all of your chest. I need compensation."  
  
Oliver looked at the imp. He could handle a few kisses. They had kissed already and, besides, what was the worse that could happen?  
  
"Fine," he said.  
  
He leaned in to kiss the grin off the imp. Of course he was happy. He got everything he wanted. Oliver knew that, eventually, he'll worm him out of his pants - but not now. He still needed some time to get used to all that.  
  
It started slow, just like all the other kisses, but suddenly it picked up. Wovyn passed a hand in his hair and produced a small pleased sound that was like a mewl; for some reason this excited Oliver. Opening his mouth to the other's tongue seemed easier after that. They caressed each other and a few playful sounds were exchanged. Oliver felt sloppy and clumsy, especially compared to how Wovyn seemed to know exactly what he wanted. He only thought that for a while. After he felt so good that he forgot to think, and the next thing he knew he was parting with the imp gasping because he needed some air.  
  
Wovyn licked his lips and started to purr. He looked content. When Oliver reached for the tray, the other made no move to stop him so he must have considered himself compensated in full. Oliver finished preparing his bread. He still had his shirt open from before but he found that he didn't mind as much.  
  
"Can I have a bite?" suddenly asked Wovyn.  
  
"Of course."  
  
Wovyn opened his mouth but didn't move.  
  
"Do you want me to feed you too, while you're at it?" asked Oliver, amused.  
  
Wovyn nodded.  
  
The human rolled his eyes but did as he was asked. The imp engulfed half of the slice in one bite, missing Oliver's fingers by a hair.  
  
"Hey! That's mine!"  
  
Wovyn started to chew quickly.  
  
"Oh fine, you big... thief," said Oliver. "You can have the rest too."  
  
Somehow, the imp managed to swallow the whole thing so that he could open his mouth again. Oliver rolled his eyes and gave him what was left before preparing himself a new slice. Wovyn snuggled up against his legs, closed his eyes and resumed his purring.  
  
Oliver ate two more slices before he started to become suspicious. "You aren't hungry anymore?" he asked.  
  
"I am."  
  
"You haven't asked for anything more."  
  
Wovyn looked up at Oliver with a large smile. "I know. I'm saving some space."  
  
"That's quite a lot of space you are saving. Care to tell me for what?" Oliver expected the other to come up with some other excuse to kiss him.  
  
"Cookies!"  
  
"Wh-- You can't have a breakfast of cookies!"  
  
"Then it won't be my breakfast. It will be a snack."  
  
"There is supposed to be some for the whole building you know. I have bought little cloth bags to distribute them and--"  
  
"If you are going to give them away anyway, then you might as well give them to me," replied Wovyn. "I'll love them more than anyone else will."  
  
Oliver sighed. "I guess I can spare you a few..."  
  
"But I want all of them."  
  
"You can't eat fifty cookies, Wovyn."  
  
"You will be making fifty cookies for me?" The imp grinned. "Wow, can't wait!"  
  
Oliver tried his best not to laugh and rolled his eyes. He made a piece of bread for him and gave it to him. He ate it happily.  
  
"Well I guess that I won't have too much of an appetite if you keep hand-feeding me bread, butter, and jam," said Wovyn.  
  
"You're absolutely shameless, you know that?"  
  
Wovyn grinned. "And you love me for it."  
  
"I do," said Oliver.


	11. The Plan

"Don't eat that," said Oliver.

Wovyn frowned but obeyed. It smelled good. It had sugar in it. He wanted to put it in his mouth.

"You can't just eat raw dough, Wovyn, that's not how cookies work. They will be much better when they are cooked, that's why they are called cook-ies."

Wovyn kept pouting but didn't stop mixing. Oliver wasn't even next to him, he was all the way over there on the other side of the table. On top of that, he wore too many clothes. Wovyn was going to have to fix that soon. It was way too early in the morning, on a Saturday, to be this strict about licking spoons and wearing proper clothes. He had even kicked Wovyn out of his room to change - how rude! Just when Wovyn had convinced him that he didn't need to keep his pajamas buttoned up too.

He'd have his revenge.

"Wovyn, treat your dough with love. Glaring at it won't help anything."

"Alas, I can't," said Wovyn with a dramatic sigh.

Oliver rolled his eyes. Wovyn loved when he did that because he was always trying to repress a smile when he did - and always failed.

"Let me guess. A kiss would help?" said the human.

"Of course! What else?"

Oliver chuckled and wiped his hands on his apron. It was very cute; it had a little ghost on the front and the writing read "my cooking is to die for!" He then walked around the kitchen table and got up on his toes to lay a chaste kiss on Wovyn's lips.

Wovyn might have asked for more, but more would take time. Besides, he had a plan for later. It was an excellent idea. Just thinking about it made him chuckle darkly.

"There, now behave," told him Oliver as he returned to spreading the dough on ungreased pans. He did so very neatly, like everything he did.

Oh, how Wovyn wanted to mess him up right now. The kissing from this morning had awakened many hungers inside of him, none of which were sated. Heck, he was even getting hungry again - physically hungry, not metaphorically. Each time he caught Oliver biting his lip when he focused or licking something to check the taste he felt more and more like the monster he was. He was ravenous while presented with the most delicious of meals and yet he couldn't pounce on him - not yet.

Not yet. Soon.

"I think it's smooth enough, Wovyn," said the unsuspecting Oliver. "Why don't you come over here to spread them? The over should be nice and warm by now, they will be done in no time."

Soon, though Wovyn when he brought over his bowl. Right when the cookies were done.

"So, when will I be able to eat it without burning myself?" asked Wovyn.

"Jeezus, give it five minutes," said Oliver with a laugh. "I supposed you could try now, but I wouldn't recommend--"

As soon as he had said that, Wovyn had grabbed a cookie and attempted to shove it down his face. It was most certainly hot but not burning, all he needed was to hand for a few moments with his mouth open while breathing loudly. Oliver looked a little worried as he did that but didn't intervene when it was clear that the imp was fine.

"Delicious!" cried Wovyn when he had swallowed it all. He reached for another.

"No! Just one!" cried Oliver.

"But why not more?"

"Because they aren't meant to be eaten like that! Wovyn, don't be a savage."

Wovyn slumped down until only his frowny eyes poked from over the side of the table.

"And don't be a drama queen either," said Oliver as he tried not to laugh. "You'll get your fill in five minutes. Do I have to watch you now so that you don't steal them all?"

"But they are the most delicious cookies I have ever eaten in my life."

"Thank you, but flattery won't make them cool down faster."

There was a moment of silence as they waited, then Oliver scooted closer. He wanted to pet him. He had that look on his face that Wovyn recognized. Wovyn loved pets, so he didn't mind leaning his head against his hip to encourage him to do so. He was rewarded by timid fingers going to scratch that point behind his ear that he liked so much. And the moment it was touched he had to purr. If waiting meant being touched like that, he didn't mind all the waiting in the world.

"Seriously, though, you are not going to eat all of the cookies, right?" asked Oliver in a worried tone.

Wovyn looked up and answered seriously, for once. "No... on the condition that you promise to make some more. All for me."

There was a spark in Oliver's eye. "Maybe they don't need to be cookies next time. Those are easy to make a cheap, and that's why I give them away, but I could most certainly make something... that's a bit more complex, all for you."

"Really?"

"Yes! Like a cake, maybe. Or fruit tarts. Do you like apples?"

"I like chocolate," said Wovyn. "Like chocolate chips. Like what there is in the cookies."

"How about..." Oliver stopped scratching Wovyn behind the ear at the thought, tapping his lips with his pointer finger. "Raspberry chocolate muffins. I would have to go shopping for frozen raspberries, but that's easy to do and very tasty. Would you like that?"

"Muffins?" Wovyn's mouth was already watering just thinking about it. "That sounds deli-scrabulous."

Oliver paused and looked at Wovyn oddly. "All right, I'll bite. What does deli-scrabulous mean?"

"It's the ultimate tasty! It's delicious, scramble and fabulous."

"... Scramble? As in scrambled eggs?"

"As in apple scramble!"

Oliver stared at him, confused.

"You don't know apple scramble?" said Wovyn. "It's baked apples and there are a lot of scrambled crumbs on top..."

"But isn't that called an apple crumble?"

This time it was Wovyn that grew quiet.

"I'm pretty sure," continued Oliver, "that it's called an apple crumble."

"Do you know how to make them?" asked Wovyn excitedly.

"I do--"

"Deli-scambulous!"

"But shouldn't it be deli-crumbulous? Oh, you know what, never mind." Oliver gave him a few more scratches behind the ear. "I think that they are cooled down enough, I'll get the bags to put them in. Once that's done, you can have all the rest."

"And you?" asked Wovyn.

"I have my own. The ones you don't like."

"Sounds like you are missing out."

"Don't worry, Wovyn, I know the taste of chocolate chips cookies. I promise you that I am picking what I like most. Now, behave and I'll be right back."

Finally, the moment Wovyn had been waiting for arrived. Oliver turned his back to the tray and left the room, unaware of the large, triumphant grin of the imp as he watched him do. When Oliver came back with the bags, all of the cookies were gone, along with the trays, and Wovyn looked like the cat that had eaten the canary.

Oliver was not amused. He placed his hands on his hips and frowned at the naughty imp. "Wovyn, what happened to the cookies?"

"Amazing story, Oliver, you wouldn't believe. Suddenly there was a big gush of wind that slammed the window open and then woooooosh! The trays flew away!"

"Wovyn, give the cookies back."

"Aha, but it won't be that easy," said the imp smugly. "There will be a price."

Wovyn posed cheekily to emphasize his point. Oliver looked at him and made a long sigh. He was trying to look disinterested but Wovyn had caught the unconscious flaring of his nostrils. The imp had no idea why Oliver was trying to hard to pretend as if he wasn't interested. He guessed that humans were complicated like that, he knew that they had some philosophy about not jumping too fast in bed with a new partner. He didn't really understand why they did that, but he guessed that humans lived in a world that was a bit more complicated than the one of imps. Not that it made it any better. In fact, in Wovyn's eyes, he would rather be himself than a human.

"All right, but you better not have eaten them all," said Oliver.

Wovyn's smirk grew bigger. He had won. Oliver clearly assumed that what he was asking for was a kiss - only it wasn't. Not exactly. He grabbed his human and pushed him over the table, holding him down by the wrists. The moment Oliver realized his predicament, he turned redder than a tomato. Wovyn purred in delight.

"What are you doing?" asked Oliver. His voice was a little squeaky but also breathless. "I didn't even clean the table!"

Wovyn didn't answer. He just licked his lips.

"Wovyn, you're just going to kiss me, right?"

Again, pointless question. Wovyn leaned in and kissed him. He was gentle and careful; he was rewarded by Oliver relaxing under him. He was lured in a false sense of security, really, but it was up to Wovyn to show him that it was all quite all right. Oliver had no reasons to be scared of him.

So he kept kissing him. He kissed him down his jaw and around his ear, listening to the other's breathing to see if he was getting into it, and then back to his lips. His hands entered the action, roaming over Oliver's clothed chest. As if to nag him, he wore a turtle collar pullover today, the sort of clothes that hung close to the body (and displaced Oliver's lovely form) but that prevented any sort of proper access. Wovyn reached up to the collar and pulled it down to allow his lips to tease the soft skin of Oliver's neck.

"That's more than kissing," said Oliver. He didn't seem worried yet. He was just commenting.

Once again, Wovyn found it easier to not reply. He knew that if he started to talk Oliver might use that to get out of the moment. The man said way too many damn words and didn't enjoy himself enough. Not that Wovyn minded. It was no secret that he thought that to be adorable.

Still focused on making him feel good, he made his other hand roam up and down the man's body. He dug and dragged his fingers a little over the soft fabric while being careful not to have it caught by his claws. This made Oliver gasp. Wovyn's ears perked up at the slight sound and he did it again.

"Wovyn?" asked Oliver.

"Hmm?"

"What are you exactly doing?"

The imp came back up to kiss him until he was entirely relaxed again. "Making you feel good."

"How much..." Olive bit his lip. They were already very pink from all the kissing they had been up to. "How far do you plan on going?"

Wovyn smirked. "As far as I can get away with, why?"

"Wovyn!"

But he didn't say anything further. The hand that had been stroking his chest had just slipped under his clothes, doing the same thing it had before but directly on the skin. Surprised, Oliver gasped and squirmed a little, but didn't make an attempt at getting away or pushing him. He didn't protest either. Wovyn took that as an encouragement to continue with the rest.

His hand traveled a few times around Oliver's chest, teasing a nipple when he came across one. Oliver would tense a little when Wovyn ventured over sensitive spots, trying to stop himself from making any embarrassing sounds, and each time Wovyn kissed him until he relaxed again. It was a difficult balance. The imp wanted nothing more than to indulge in Oliver, as he would indulge in a treat, but then he also needed to remain mindful of what he was doing, more than with any other lover he had in his life. He wondered if this was the first time Oliver took it further than kisses. That would explain a lot.

When he was sure that he had gotten Oliver to the right place, he slowly lifted that shirt. Oliver's skin, so pale in the morning light that came in from the kitchen's window, reminded him of oh-so-lickable whipped cream. He was defined enough that the slight dips between muscles looked soft enough for sweet kisses to be laid there. Down low, right at the rim of his pants, the curls of his happy trail stood out, dark against the pale skin, so much more tempting than shy Oliver wanted to appear.

Wovyn licked his lips. As far as he was concerned, second breakfast was served.

"Wovyn?" asked Oliver hesitantly.

The imp looked up. "Yes?"

"I..." He seemed so conflicted now. He bit his lip and didn't speak anymore.

"Relax, Oliver. You don't need to worry about anything, all right?"

Oliver nodded hesitantly.

This time, rather than kissing his lips, Wovyn kissed down his chest, starting as high as the crumpled up clothes allowed him to. He moved down to one nipple, teasing it with his teeth and lips until it hardened into a point. He remembered how Oliver had reacted to that last night, how he had gasped. Wovyn guessed he was one of those that was sensitive there, although it seemed with how reactive he was that Oliver was sensitive all over. This time was no exception. Wovyn even heard a small moan as Oliver squirmed ever so slightly but this time he wasn't stopped. He was a little more relaxed when Wovyn repeated the whole process with the other nipple; it seemed like the imp's plan was going really, really well.

Strong with his previous success, Wovyn moved down. Oliver's breath fluttered when the imp's lips reached his navel so he took some time there. Despite that, he was aware that there was a more pressing matter at hand. In other words, the matter itself pressed against Wovyn's chest with every move: Oliver's tight pants were making no secret of the fact that the human was growing hard.

That was fine. Wovyn had gotten his own erection for a while now.


	12. Over the Kitchen Counter

Wovyn was overwhelming him. He was so hot when he touched Oliver, and that heat seemed to slip into the human and spread all over his body. He couldn't stop it. He didn't want it to stop.

His mouth, that kissed him so sweetly, was somewhere around his navel now, teasing him with the possibility of going even lower than before. Oliver knew that he was hard before it was almost painful. He was embarrassed but there was nothing to do about it, and Wovyn didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he seemed rather content with kissing his stomach softly. His hands were stroking his sides gently, reassuringly, trying to tell him that everything would be all right. Oliver had noticed how much caution Wovyn took with him each time they made out and, for some reason, it made him feel safer than he ever had.

Wovyn looked up at him mischeviously from somewhere down near Oliver's stomach. He seemed quite smug about the whole situation. After all, Oliver was finally falling for his advances; he had every reason to be happy.

"It's like you are a cake," he said.

Oliver rolled his eyes. He had seen this one coming.

"Time for the main carrot," continued Wovyn.

"The... carrot?"

Wovyn's hand latched on Oliver's fly, quickly taking care of it, and pulled down his pants. Oliver gasped when the cold air hit his erection. He closed his eyes shut. This was the first time someone saw him... down there. Naked. As a lover.

"Don't be scared," said Wovyn.

"I'm not scared."

"Then open your eyes."

His breath was cool on his overheated erection. God! Wovyn was so close to him, he could almost kiss him there. Oliver slowly pried his eyelids apart, scared that what he was going to see would make him come instantly.

He didn't, to his relief, but that didn't stop the sight from making his dick jolt. Wovyn's lips were indeed close enough to kiss him, yet his big golden eyes were fixed upon his face, as if waiting for some permission. There was desire in them, enough desire that it might burn Oliver.

"I'm going to eat you," said Wovyn. His voice was no longer light and playful like before.

Oliver gulped and nodded.

Finally, Wovyn kissed him as Oliver had desired. He started gently, on the head, then down the side. Oliver couldn't tear himself away from the sight, almost drowned in the sensation. Wovyn chuckled when he reached the bottom of his staff, the vibrations of his laugh like a shockwave in the human's crotch.

"You're starving," he said.

"Starving?" repeated Oliver.

"Did anyone ever treat you this way before? You are looking at me like I'm a champion of sex."

Oliver bit his lip.

"I'm really not doing much, you know," continued Wovyn. "I think that no one ever did this to you so it might seem genius. Did it happen like that?"

"Ah... actually..." Oliver couldn't say it, not while looking into Wovyn's eyes at least, so he laid back and covered his eyes with his arm. "I'm... yes."

"I knew it."

Wovyn kissed his way up his chest until he was leaving a small peck on his lips. He even pulled Oliver's arm away to look at him in the eyes. Down there, between them, a clothed hard-on was pressing against Oliver.

"I'll do my best to take care of you," said Wovyn. "Don't you worry, I'll be very soft."

"You're already soft."

"Then I'll be even softer."

Oliver didn't deserve this, he thought as Wovyn kissed him again. Handsome men that randomly appeared in his house only happened in dreams, so why did Wovyn feel so real? This was the last thought he had before he forgot himself in that sweet kiss.

Wovyn pulled back after a while and started to pull down Oliver's pants. Dazzled, the human let him do as he pleased. He wanted this, no matter how hard he blushed while watching himself getting undress. Wovyn, when he had dropped the garment on the ground, caressed Oliver's thighs with admiration. His hands trailed higher and higher but never returned to Oliver's cock. Not that the latter cared. He couldn't get his eyes off the bulge in Wovyn's pants. He remembered how big he had been relaxed. He knew how men loved each other. He wanted it in him, yet he was scared it wouldn't fit.

"It's coming," said Wovyn when he caught him looking.

He reached for his own shorts and opened them. He pulled himself out carefully, and Oliver gasper. This would never fit.

"I like when you look at me like this," said Wovyn. "And this is a lot more comfortable, let me tell you."

The imp's clothes joined Oliver's on the floor and he was back between Oliver. Even the way his hips bushed against Oliver's thighs could make him shudder in delight. It all felt so intense.

"Do you have any oil?" asked Wovyn.

Oliver looked at him without understanding, a little wary of what the mischevious creature wanted to do with oil before he suddenly understood what was up. "Oh, for lube-- I mean yes, under the sink."

Wovyn grinned and went to fetch it. He seemed perfectly undisturbed by the fact that he was naked. Oliver suspected that he wouldn't mind living his life like that every day.

He came back with a bottle of olive oil. He held it high.

"Olive oil for Oliver," he said, beaming.

"Wow. Very funny, Wovyn."

Wovyn snickered at his hilarious pun and poured a generous portion on his fingers. Oliver bit his lips when he saw that hand venture between his legs. This was it, he thought, there was no coming back. He closed his eyes as a finger traced circles around his entrance, deciding that it was an odd but not disagreeable sensation. In porn, they always seemed a lot more excited for that moment.

He was breached with one finger. Careful not to hurt him with a claw, Wovyn pushed deeper, then back and forth. Oliver, his eyes still closed, squirmed. He really wasn't sure he liked that. The sensation of being stretched wasn't too rewarding.

"Breath, Cookie," told him Wovyn.

Oliver did so, having not realised that he had been holding his breath. This helped him relax considerably, to the point where a second finger could be pushed in.

"I don't like doing it with the hands," said Wovyn. "Next time, I'll show you how imps usually do that to each other."

"Next time?" repeated Oliver.

"Yep yep. I'm not going to want it once so you better prepare yourself for that."

Oliver chuckled. He didn't have it in him to tell him that Wovyn was wrong about them fucking because that would be a lie. No matter how hard he had tried to deny it, it had been obvious from the start that they would end up like that. He just wouldn't have guessed that their first time would be on his kitchen table. It wasn't very comfortable, to be honest, but Oliver only realized that when he was not taken enough by what was going on to forget it, like now.

"Third finger," announced Wovyn.

"Can't you like... touch me at my-- Well, at my prostate? Please."

It was Wovyn's start to laugh. "I'm not going deep. I don't want to hurt you with my claws. That's why we usually use our tails among imps."

"Wait, your tail?" Oliver looked down at Wovyn in shock.

"Of course we do." The imp looked smug. "It's very nice. I actually like it. Too bad you don't have one but I'm sure we can find some replacement."

Oliver tried to imagine Wovyn's tail in him, long, flexible and girthy. He blushed at the mental image. It sounded either uncomfortable, either very arousing. He was glad they wouldn't be trying this out now at least, it would have been too much for a first time.

"Are you all right?" asked Wovyn.

"I'm fine. It still pulls a bit."

Wovyn pulled his fingers out and oiled his cock. Oliver tensed. This was it. 

"Tell me if it hurts," said Wovyn.

"All that for cookies," jokingly scoffed Oliver to lighten the mood. His mood, his nervous mood.

"It's not about the cookies anymore."

Despite his best effort, Oliver tensed when he felt the blunt head against him. It took some pushing to let it in, and even then he winced when it breached him. Wovyn kissed him gently on the cheeks and lips, hunched over him. That, at least, felt nice, but it wasn't enough. He understood that so he reached between them to stroke Oliver.

"Unf!" moaned the human when he was touched.

His cock was engulfed by the imp's large hand, his rough palm rubbing against the sensitive skin there. It was still slick with oil, so it glided over his skin effortlessly, in smooth motions. Oliver's toes curled. It felt so good. That certainly made the penetration somewhat easier on him.

Until there was no need to make it any easier. Wovyn was so big that when he passed his prostate he pressed against it, making Oliver's legs jolt and a spark of pleasure shoot right back up, hitting the back of his skull. Oliver's hands twitched and scrapped the surface of the kitchen table in vain, looking for something to hold.

Wovyn' chuckled. "That's the little secret button, right'" he asked.

"Oh... oh yeah." Oliver reached up to hold on the imp's wide back. "Don't stop."

Wovyn nodded and kept pushing. He used a bit more strength and, despite the olive old, it burned a little, but Oliver didn't really care. In fact, he might even say that he liked it. The pain, that was. It was just enough to sharpen the pleasure. He didn't have the will to worry wether or not this made him a masochist, not yet at least. And there was the fullness too. The sensation of slowly being filled was... foreign. And empowering. Oliver decided he very much liked having large objects pushed into him, especially when they happened to be Wovyn's dick.

Of course, he wasn't ready to admit any of that aloud. Not that it was required of him.

Wovyn bottomed with a grunt. He was breathing hard. Oliver shifted under him before stroking his brow. He touched his lips as well, and Wovyn kissed him as a response. Oliver opened himself for his tongue and was filled with Wovyn through both ends. He needed more.

"I'm ready," he said.

Wovyn grunted and pulled back, making Oliver wince a little. He immediately missed the fullness and whined, and that earned him the return of Wovyn's hand on his length. Its thumb flicked over his head, making Oliver jump as pleasure shot though him again. He whined when it left him, and Wovyn was almost all out too.

"You're so sensitive," told him Wovyn. "If I touch you there you might come too soon."

Oliver scoffed. "I can handle myself, thank you very much."

This made the imp grin before he pushed himself back into Oliver. The latter slid on the smooth surface from the force but barely noticed when a stroke to his prostate turned his thoughts to mush. He groaned.

"I think my dick is enough," said Wovyn in his ear. "Maybe another time."

Oliver shuddered and held him tighter as his sole response.

Wovyn worked himself into a torturously slow pace. Oliver was fine with that, for a while at least. He tired to not moan _every time_ he was thrust into but that was stronger than him. The sounds were like small, needy mewls at the back of his throat. He couldn't really bring himself to care about how manly he sounded at the moment, not as long as Wovyn kept rubbing against his sweet spot.

Until he needed more, but again he was a smart man. He folded his legs, pressing his heels against his ass to gain some leverage from his feet on the table, and thrust back against the imp with his hips. He demanded a faster pace. He needed it. Wovyn chuckled and gave it to him, going at him harder too.

"More," ordered Oliver.

Wovyn just chuckled and grabbed hold of his hips. Oliver should have known better than to request that from someone that was obviously a lot stronger than him. He was suddenly pounded into mercilessly, the creature holding back none of his desire or his strength. Oliver slid across the table with each thrust. He screamed. Held tight on Wovyn's shoulders. But never did he ask for mercy. He would be crazy to do so, not when each stroke made him see stars, not when they were both breathing heavy and hard. If he angled himself just right, his seeping cock would leave a trail over Wovyn's abs. It was filthy and sweaty but Oliver loved every second of it.

He sort of knew that Wovyn was getting closer and closer from the way he buried his head against his shoulder, grunting like a beast in heat. By then, Oliver was already struggling not to come, despite what he had told Wovyn earlier. He relaxed his gritted teeth and pushed against his monster, forcing him to piston deep inside of him, wanting to feel him come there.

Wovyn didn't disappoint. He produced a low, animalistic growl and buried himself. Oliver had never head any sexier sound in his life. This was the detail that pushed him right over the edge, crying out and holding on to Wovyn as he painted both of their stomachs with his seed. Wovyn muttered something and with one precise move, hit his prostate one last time. Oliver saw white. 

He remained there for what seemed to be forever, panting and clinging to his monster. He wanted to say something but his mind kept coming up blanc.

Eventually, it was Wovyn that chuckled to himself and moved away. Oliver had to let go of him regretfully. It had been so intense. How could something feel so long and yet so short?

"What did you think?" asked Wovyn.

Oliver opened his eyes and got up on his elbows. He had a blanc look on his face as he looked down at his cum-stained stomach as he tried to find the words to express what he had just felt. Eventually, he shook his head.

"I had sex," he said.

"And?"

This time, Oliver looked at Wovyn, that stood in front of him unashamed of his nudity. He was built like a Greek statue, like a god. He could spend days exploring that body of his. He had been a fool to ever be shy about this.

"I want to do it again," said Oliver.

"Now?"

"Of course not," he scoffed. "We need to give the cookies."

Wovyn whined, but it was all for show. Oliver chuckled and shook his head. He felt happy. So happy.


	13. A Little Oliver Tree

Oliver rang the bell, then waited. There was a voice from behind the door ("No! I'll open it, Lily!") but, most importantly, he could still hear the ruffle of very sneaky fingers trying to get in his bag for the fifth time since the beginning of their trip. He turned around and Wovyn pulled his hand and pretended to look at the ceiling.

"I said no," said Oliver.

"They don't all deserve cookies, you know," answered Wovyn innocently.

Oliver was about to reply that it wasn't about deserving or not, it was about giving, when the door opened and he turned around quickly, smiling at the man that was standing in front of him.

"Oh, hello Oliver," he said. "How are you? Did you want something?"

"I'm doing great!" replied Oliver a little more enthusiastically than he usually would. Not that he cared. He did feel great at the moment. "I've made those, they are for you."

The man looked at the cookie bag with amusement. "Christ, Oliver, bored again? You really are going to be giving cookies to the entire building?"

"But not to me," bemoaned Wovyn.

"Why, yes." Oliver ignored Wovyn. "I really enjoy doing them and I wouldn't be able to eat all of those alone. Don't worry about me, it's a pleasure."

Right as he said that the little girl of the family wiggled her way through the open door to stand near her father. She gawked at Wovyn openly, clearly impressed with how big he was.

"Lily, don't be rude," said her father. "Say hello to Oliver."

"Hello Oliver."

"Hello Lily," said Oliver with a wave of the hand. She was still staring at Wovyn.

"Do I say hello to the monster too?" she asked.

Her father laughed. "If you want to."

"Hello, mister the monster."

"Hello! My name is Wovyn! I hope you enjoy the cookies, they are very good."

She nodded gravely. "Nice to meet you, mister Wovyn."

This made her father laugh. He gave Oliver a look that probably was meant to mean "kids, am I right?" Oliver did his best to give him a sincere smile.

"Well then, Lily," said the man, "why don't you bring those inside for now?" He gave her the cookies and patted her on the head.

"Goodbye mister Oliver. Goodbye mister Wovyn." She turned around and escaped.

"Thak you very much for those by the way," said her father. "Lily loves them."

"It's my pleasure. Glad to hear that." Oliver didn't feel really comfortable, as the man was surveying his face carefully.

"Say," he said after a while, "call me an idiot if you must, but did you change something? New haircut? I can't tell."

"No... no, nothing." Well, something had changed but just thinking about it made Oliver bush. "I best get going."

"Right. Thanks again. If you want to drop by for a drink sometimes, you're welcome to do so. Right now my wife isn't home, but I'm sure that she'll be delighted to hear that you passed by."

"I'll make sure to do that soon, then," answered Oliver.

They bid each other farewell and Oliver moved to the next door.

"Lily was one of Eva's friends," suddenly said Wovyn. "She was often over to play. I hope she doesn't miss her too much."

"I hope so as well." Oliver looked at Wovyn. "And you? Do you miss her?"

"A bit. But I miss all the children I've protected. That's how life goes." The imp grinned at him. "But now I got you to protect, so I'm happy."

Oliver blushed a little and smiled. Wovyn's words made him warm in the chest but he didn't know what to say back. Perhaps nothing needed to be said.

Oliver laid the bag on the side of the kitchen with a sigh. There it was - the feeling that he had done something good for others. When he was still struggling with his depression, this was one of the things that kept him alive, or at least feeling like he was alive enough. Now that he was off his pills, it was even better.

Blast that damn medicine. He hoped he never had to take it in his life ever again.

But he also knew that his terrific mood wasn't only due to the satisfaction of giving and bringing joy. In fact he felt different than usual today, more... on his nerves, but it a good way, like he could spontaneously combust into happiness at a moment's notive. Wovyn's touch was all he seemed to need for that to happen.

The imp, that had been up to God knows what in the halleway - moving things around and making a mess of his bird statues, judging by the noise - just now walked around the corner and stopped in his tracks when he saw Oliver. When the other held his gaze, he grinned, showing off his sharp teeth, and started to purr loudly.

"What are you up to now?" asked Oliver, amused.

"Nothing," replied the imp in a sing-song voice.

Wovyn took a step towards Oliver. The latter took a step away, identifying Wovyn's intention from the way his eyes roamed over his body. Again? That creature was really insatiable.

And Oliver wouldn't have minded, save for the fact that the reasonable part of him was telling him that now wasn't the time. He didn't know much about romantic relationships but right now... While it was true that he was happy, he also felt uncertain about so many things.

"We need to talk," he told Wovyn.

"Talk? Maybe later?"

"Talk now."

Wovyn whined.

"Please."

Something in Oliver's tone must have told Wovyn that it was important, for the creature abandoned his playful complaining almost immediately and became serious. That eased up Oliver some more, enough for him to sit down. Wovyn came to sit next to him.

"I just... it doesn't have to be long," said Oliver. "Just a little chat."

"Is it going to be complicated? Humans do talks complicatedly sometimes."

"Well, I don't know what you mean by that but... I don't suppose it is. It's just that I feel like I don't know you much... or anything about imps, for that matter."

Wovyn's eyes lit up. "So like... you want to know more about me? I can talk about myself. I'm very good at that. I don't get to do it often though, but I don't need practice."

Oliver had to laugh. "I don't doubt it for a second. I guess I wouldn't mind learning a bit more about you, even if we'll have to include other things."

"Like what?"

"Like us. You know, what we want to do in the future. With what we started." What they had started on that very table only this morning. Oliver turned a little red just thinking about it.

"Oh, easy-peasy. You feed me cookies and I protect you. Didn't we talk about that already?"

"Yes but-- Well, I didn't exactly feed me cookies this morning, Wovyn."

"Maybe you did." There was a mischievous smile on Wovyn's face. "The best cookies you had, actually. And it was very delicious. I'd like a second serving, please."

"Wovyn!"

"What? You've been giving some to all those other people right in front of me, it's not fair that I don't get a share."

"You know what I mean!"

"I _certainly _do not, never ever!"

Oliver chuckled and shook his head. He was incorrigible but somehow he could never get mad at him. Wovyn just grinned widely at him, enjoying his joy, content to be there with him.

"But more seriously," said Oliver. "I wanted to know what you saw us... becoming. Do Imps form lasting relationships - like humans?"

"From what I saw, not all humans do that," answered Wovyn. "It's a little hard to know why. I just like living things day by day and see what might happen next. But I guess some imps like to stay together. Mostly the smaller ones, but also some of my kind as well. I have parents like that. They don't feed on the same kid but they live near one another, always. I never had that but it seems fun enough."

"Do you mean... that you see us sharing a relationship like that in the future?"

"I mean it would be boring if we didn't kiss or sleep together sometimes, since we'll be living together."

"Boring?" repeated Oliver. "You are aware that people can be friends without sex, you know."

"Yep. As I said. Boring."

Oliver took a moment to think about it. He looked at Wovyn carefully, establishing that he was hot for what seemed to be the millionth time. He shook his head.

"I wouldn't call it boring," he said after a while. "More like... frustrating."

Wovyn grinned at him. Oliver knew that he was particularly delighted because he curled up his toes and moved his tail.

"What?" asked the human, amused.

"It would be frustrating because you wouldn't be sleeping with me?"

"Well-- Maybe."

"Because I'm so handsome."

"Now you're just giving yourself compliments."

"They aren't giving yourself compliments if it's true."

"That's not how that works. I like guys that are modest."

"You do not! You like me."

"All right, maybe I do." Oliver couldn't stop himself from laughing anymore. "But do you like me back?"

"Of course!"

"But, as in..." Oliver didn't know how to word it. Or rather, he did, but he didn't want to word it that way.

Wovyn lowered his ears. "You're talking complicatedly. I can't read your mind."

"As in, well, with your feelings. Not that I do - not in love at least - but I think I will... maybe. I really like you at least."

"Wanting you is a feeling, Oliver. It just happens to go down to my dick." Wovyn leaned against the table, smug for a moment as the last word made Oliver blush - again. "But the want's like a leaf, or more like a branch, on a little tree of happy feelings when I see you. And that is fed by you being kind, and cute, and Oliver, I guess." He grinned. "It's an olive oil tree."

Oliver snorted. His heart swelled from the description. "It's just called an olive tree, Wovyn."

"Do you have one?"

"No, I don't. But I've seen a few when I was on holidays in the south. They like hot places."

"I like hot places too. Like your hot place. Between your legs." Wovyn leaned in. "It was very hot."

"Wovyn, Jesus Christ," swore Oliver. The way the other was looking at him right now had his blood pumping already, warming up all of his body.

Wovyn took this as an invitation to lean in even further, placing a hand on his thigh for support. Suddenly the kitchen felt smaller than it should and Oliver didn't really mind it.

"Are we done talking now?" asked Wovyn.

Oliver opened his mouth. Probably not. But for the life of him, he couldn't imagine what to say next. After a few seconds of wait, Wovyn leaned in and kissed him, slipping his tongue between his lips. Oliver didn't resist it, he even slipped a hand over Wovyn's shoulder to draw him closer.

"Maybe," said the imp as he broke the kiss, "we can talk about bedroom stuff now. That's a lot to talk about."

Oliver bit his lip. That sounded interesting enough. He nodded, which prompted Wovyn to get up - and then pick him up. Oliver gasped in surprise but didn't protest, and he let himself be carried away towards his bedroom. 


	14. Bedroom Manners

Wovyn dropped Oliver on the bed, making him oof from the shock, and crawled over him licking his lips. While it was true that they had slept together this morning already, Wovyn was hungry for so much more than just that. It had been too short, he thought, there were so many more things to do than a quickie on the kitchen table.

Oliver laid his hands on Wovyn's chest, stopping him. He didn't seem to sure about himself but Wovyn was willing to wait. Nudging Oliver in the right direction only to see him come undone under his touch was one of the things he liked most about his human. That, and the fact that he was absolutely unaware that he still smelled like sex - humans and their poor noses couldn't detect smells for the life of them.

"Wovyn, I..."

"I'll be gentle with you, don't worry."

"It's not that. I want... well, this time I want to learn. Some things. How to do it."

"Learn? Just do what you like most. Or let me do the things. I love touching you." Wovyn buried his face in the crook of Oliver's neck, breathing him in. He started to purr.

"Wovyn! I really want to-- That tickles. Stop licking me!"

Wovyn chuckled and most certainly didn't stop licking him. He had found a patch of skin at the corner of Oliver's jaw that was wasn't covered by that damn turtleneck and was going to town on it. His human, cute as he was, couldn't help but squirm a little under him each time he lavished that spot with his attention. His nose, his head, all of it was already full of Oliver. He could feel his dick starting to fill at the perspective of a second round.

"Wovyn, really, stop-- I'm trying to talk, I'm trying to say--" Oliver got his hands against Wovyn's face and managed to pry him away. "I want to touch you, too."

Wovyn looked at Oliver, his tongue still sticking out, before he grinned widely. That was almost as good at getting to spoil his Cookie shamelessly, to be honest, he wasn't going to lie. Oliver's lips on his dick... oh yeah, his little friend down in his pants like the idea too.

Oliver gulped as he slowly took in Wovyn's hungry gaze. He didn't look like he was regretting his statement yet, though.

"Let me touch you some more first, then," said Wovyn.

"But then you're going to make me--" Oliver was unable to finish his sentence.

"Am I?"

"Well, no, not if you behave."

"But do you want me to?"

Oliver didn't answer that. He just bit his lip.

Wovyn laughed and kissed his brow. "I won't. Not too much anyway. Let's get your shirt off."

He barely waited for Oliver to sit off before starting to pull it away from him, earning himself a grunt of protest at his impatience. When he was done though, he was rewarded why more of Oliver's bare skin than what he could dream of. He stroked his chest, then his stomach, purring loudly. Oh yeah. He wanted to taste every inch of it.

"Cookie," he muttered as he kissed Oliver's collar bone.

"More like an ice cream," replied his human. "Because you make me melt."

"I like ice cream too. I'll make you say "I screamed" after that."

His pun earned him a tap on his back and a scoff. Wovyn chuckled. Oliver had walked right into that one. As a revenge, he turned his attention to one of Oliver's nipples, his mouth latching on it voraciously. His Cookie didn't deceive. Taken by surprise, he arched his back in the most enticing way, moaning deep in his throat. The sound went straight to Wovyn's cock.

He kissed his way lower on Oliver's body, appreciating the softness of his skin. He dipped his tongue in his navel, making his human jump and his breath strutter, before venturing even lower. For the second time, he turned his attention to Oliver's pants and the zipper that closed them.

"Wait!" protested Oliver.

This made Wovyn stop and look up.

"You promised it was my turn," said Oliver.

Wovyn grinned at him. "Already too much?"

"If you go beyond..." Oliver drew in a stuttering breath. "If you go beyond, then I don't know if I will have the will to stop you."

Wovyn passed an arm behind Oliver's back and stroked the front of his pants slowly, just to hear that delicious little moan he did one last time. "All right. I'll let you, then."

Oliver nodded. He didn't look very confident about himself and Wovyn thought that it was adorable. If only he realized how much he had Wovyn in the palm of his hand when he looked like that. Indeed, the imp could see himself falling in love with that face. 

Wovyn got off Oliver and laid on his back against the head of the bed so that he could look down on what was happening. His tail twisted in anticipation against the sheets and, when he spread his legs, he made no secret of the bulge in his pants. Oliver looked at him with hesitation at first. He seemed overwhelmed. Not that it lasted long. He breathed in deeply and tightened his fists before crawling over to Wovyn, imitating the way the imp would approach him.

Wovyn had to stop himself from laughing. Not because Oliver was ridiculous, far from it, but because he was adorable.

"Am I doing all right?" asked his Cookie.

"You are going to make my heart explode of happy."

Oliver looked at him weirdly, licked his lips, and dared. "I'd rather make something else explode of happy."

It took Wovyn a second to get it but, when he did, he felt himself draw a sharp breath. Oliver smiled and he almost managed to look mischevious.

"Where do you want me to start so that I can do that?" asked Oliver.

Wovyn didn't answer, rather he pulled his human down to kiss him. It quickly became a mess, with Oliver still a little overwhelmed and Wovyn going at it quite enthusiastically. Oliver use the respite to run his hands down Wovyn's chest slowly, exploring what he could touch. He seemed to appreciate it a lot from the way he grunted in approval, and even more when Wovyn arched into his touch.

Little fingers zeroed on Wovyn's nipples, pinching them delicately. However, Wovyn's reaction was nothing compared to what Oliver probably expected: he simply chuckled in the kiss and parted with his human.

"You like that a lot more than me," explained Wovyn.

"Not fair."

"I like other things."

Wovyn grabbed Oliver's backside as he said that and guided him down until he was sitting , then stroked him down the legs. Keeping his promise, he didn't try to go further, giving Oliver the room he wanted to explore. He enjoyed the weight of his human on him and how close his ass was to his crotch.

"Like what? What do you like?"

Wovyn moved his ears up and down. "I love ear scratches. And kisses in the neck."

Oliver looked at them as he licked his lips. "You kiss me in the neck a lot."

"Yeah. I do. You got a very nice neck."

Oliver didn't answer. Instead, he leaned in to kiss him Wovyn on the cheek, then towards his ear. The monster's toes curled in anticipation before those soft lips even reached it and started to map it. And when Oliver kissed the tip gently, making his shudder... Wovyn was delighted by the attention, he wanted more. He turned his head to offer Oliver a better angle. He also started to purr again. Oliver's hand came around his head and found the muscle knot that allowed him to move his other ear. Wovyn produced a small, high-pitched sound and his brain fried a little.

"You like that," whispered Oliver.

"Yeah... please don't stop yet."

Oliver hummed and tried out his neck. He readjusted his position so that they were chest against chest, his legs spread wide against Wovyn's hips. His lips were soft against his skin and so sweet that he was going to melt. He was better at this than he was allowed, decided Wovyn. Especially for a beginner. His poor cock was straining against the cloth of his shorts, wanted to be let out desperately.

"Is there something else that you like?" asked Oliver.

"Hmmm..." Wovyn stared at the ceiling, mind blanc. He didn't know what else to ask for that wouldn't require him to take out his pants.

Oliver chuckled and laid his head on his chest, with his hand stroking it. Wovyn looked down at him. It looked like he was enjoying touching and exploring him at his own pace.

"You have a great body," finally commented the human. "When I started working out, I wanted one like that. I'm happy with what I have now."

"Great imps are naturally strong," said Wovyn. "So we can fight off other monsters. We move around a lot."

"I wish I was naturally strong like you."

"I also do exercise."

Oliver kissed his chest as a reply. "I still don't think it's fair," he said.

"Humans look very nice in their own way. They are just not as big but I don't mind."

"Are you big compared to others?" Asked Oliver. The way he turned bright red after he asked hinted at the true meaning of his question.

Wovyn grinned. "A bit. Compared to those I saw naked, at least."

Oliver snorted and rolled his eyes. As long as he kept smiling, that was all that mattered. In fact, he was smiling quite a bit as he moved down his body. Wovyn's ears perked up in interest, picking up on the fact that Oliver had an idea. From the looks of it, it was a really good one.

"Maybe we should check that out again," said Oliver. He tried to be smooth and cheeky but he wasn't very good at it. That only made him more adorable.

"Maybe you should," answered Wovyn. "And take a good look at it."

He nodded and kept moving down until he was straddling one of the imp's thighs. His hands were shaking as he opened the other's fly and pull his pants down. When Wovyn's cock sprang free, he stared at it with his lips parted. Wovyn moaned lightly, needing more.

With one brief glance in the direction of his face, Oliver leaned in to kiss the tip. It bobbed slightly under his touch so he gripped the base to keep it in place and tried again. The second time, Wovyn moaned lightly and his tail went to wrap around Oliver's ankle.

Encouraged by this success, Oliver darted his tongue out and licked him. He kissed him all over, from the top to the bottom, exploring and testing, while Wovyn squirmed more and more under the attention. 

"Am I doing this right?" he asked. 

Wovyn shivered from the way Oliver's breath cooled the saliva he had left behind. "Really good," he said. He looked down at him and smiled. "Are you having fun?" 

"This is... interesting. You taste... strange. Very Wovyn." 

This made the imp laugh. "I'm strange?" 

"You're a monster that lives under beds. You're bound to be a bit. Not that I mind." 

Wovyn opened his mouth to reply when Oliver wrapped his lips around his head. Taken by the surprise, the only sound he was able to emit was a slight "oh" before Oliver's tongue started to map the tip. Wovyn bit his lip as tremors coursed through him. This felt terribly good. And just when he thought it couldn't get better, Oliver's hand started to stroke him up and down. 

"Oliver," he gasped. 

His human hummed and it was as if the vibration zapped up his spine and into his entire body. For a second, his mind went blanc. He moaned.

Oliver, that was still laying on his thigh, humped himself against him, revealing that the sight of Wovyn wasn't leaving him indifferent. He pulled away shortly afterwards. 

"I think that I want you," said Oliver. 

Wovyn chuckled. "Then show me." 

Oliver crawled back up his imp. This time he looked a lot more confident. There was a naked hunger in his eye that made Wovyn's breath hitch. His sweet Cookie wanted this too much to hide it anymore. 

He stood on his knees and opened his pants slowly. There still was some shyness in him but he was fighting it actively, trying to appear confident - or at least seductive - for his Wovyn. The imp liked it very much. To have Oliver standing over him like this, stripping his last piece of clothing for him, was a dream come true. 

Off came the pants, and then Wovyn needed to sit up to help him take them all off. He got rid of his own clothing as he did so, and then tried to switch their position but was stopped by a hand on his chest. He looked up into Oliver's eyes. 

"I want to stay like that," he said. "You're... very handsome from here." 

Wovyn liked being on top but the compliment was compensation enough for that loss. He grinned and laid back where he was. He did, however, rest his hands on his Cookie's hips and gripped him hard enough to let him know that he was the one in control. 

That when he realized that they had forgotten one thing. 

"I don't think you have lube here, don't you?" asked Wovyn. "I don't think you have a lot of people to use it with."

At those words, Oliver turned a deep shade of red. 

"Or do you?" asked Wovyn, suddenly grinning. 

"I like to... masturbate with it." 

That earned him a chuckle from Wovyn. "Not with saliva?" 

Oliver leaned over him, to his side table. "I like it better - more slippery." 

Wovyn chuckled again but didn't comment. The fact that Oliver was adorable in the most minute details made them even more adorable, for some reason. 

Oliver took out a small bottled but Wovyn snatched it right out of his hands with a grin. Before his human could protest, Wovyn opened it and spread some on the tip of his tail. To his delight, Oliver's eyes widened and he produced a small "oh" when he realized what was the imp's intentions. 

"Is it going to hurt?" he asked, a little shy - but he had yet to voice protests against the idea. 

"No. Not with me." 

Wovyn chuckled in delight at the perspective of showing Oliver one of his favourite tricks. His tail, being sufficiently oiled, came around Oliver and pressed on the skin between his balls and his opening. Oliver jumped a little, closed his eyes, but didn't withdraw. 

"Are you scared?" asked Wovyn. 

"Not really... a little. It's so big." 

Wovyn stroked the top of his thigh reassuringly. "Don't worry. I'll be careful with you." 

Oliver nodded. Wovyn took as permission to move his tail a little higher, against his opening, and to press into it. Oliver opened up, greeting him into his tight heat; he was still stretched from this morning's romp. The imp's hands travelled up and down his thighs as he pushed deeper. 

"Cookie," he called. 

Oliver looked down and frowned when he was met with a mischevious smile. That's the moment Wovyn twisted, pressing snuggly against his prostate, and the result didn't receive him. Oliver shouted, surprised, then pressed back against him unvolontairly for more. He turned red when he realized what he was doing and froze. 

Wovyn laughed and pressed against him again. This time he drew a long moan from his human and it was a sound that went straight to his cock. Oliver was so beautiful like that. It only made him want to spoil him more and to taste every inch of him. It was a good thing that they lived with each other now because he certainly wouldn't be done seeing expressions like that anytime soon. 

Encouraged by his initial success, he pushed in deeper, taking care that he was still rubbing that certain spot. He felt Oliver's entrance stretch and strain a little around his tail but didn't spot any trace of pain on Oliver's face. It was so snug inside of him, so soft and warm and welcoming. Wovyn reached for the lube again so that he could spread some on his own cock, readying himself for his cookie. 

What he didn't expect, however, was to see Oliver lean forward and pull away from him. For a second, he thought that the other had changed his mind, became scared that he had, but then his human pushed back against him. He was seeking friction. Wovyn smiled and helped him. A twist of the tail inside of the human rewarded him with a noticeable shudder and a moan. Oliver was fucking himself on him. Wovyn could only conclude that this tail play was a success - to his utter delight. 

However, it became clear that Oliver was getting a little too enthusiastic. Wovyn stilled him by holding him by the thighs, which earned him an indignant glare from Oliver. This made him laugh.

"Let's have some fun together," he said.

Oliver's eyes widened in realization and he turned red. Wovyn didn't think that he had done wrong - Oliver, in his eyes, could do no wrong. He drew him in and kissed him on the forehead to reassure him. In response, his human produced a small sigh and caressed his cheek. 

Wovyn pulled out of him. The tail had gone in deeper than what he had expected and Oliver had taken it better than what he had thought he would. And he didn't have to do anything in particular as Oliver seemed determined to take matters in his own hands, quite literally: he gripped Wovyn's cock and sat himself on it, careful not to be too fast about it. He bit his lip. Progressing all the way down was slow but he eventually bottomed with a sigh. The progression of heat down Wovyn's cock was nothing but sweet torture but he held strong for his human's sake, let him do it as he felt it best.

"You're still bigger than the tail," he said.

Wovyn chuckled. "You're taking it well, you know. I was impressed when you did the first time."

"It stretched a bit but--" Oliver moved his hips ever so slightly, adjusting the length inside of him. "But I like, well... I'm so _full_. This is better than masturbating."

"I hope it is."

Oliver didn't reply. Instead, he lifted himself a little. He looked extremely focused on what he was doing as if he was trying to figure out the best way to give himself pleasure from the friction inside of him. Wovyn pushed upwards, making him cry out. The imp laughed when his actions earned himself a glare from the other, even if that glare was only halfhearted. The other was too far gone to really care. He started again as if he had never been interrupted.

Wovyn didn't try any more mischief. Instead, he relaxed, enjoying the way Oliver wrapped snuggly around him. His human was back in the pace already, lifting and dropping himself faster and faster, moaning softly. Light poured on to him from the window of the room, catching on the small beads of sweat that slipped down Oliver's figure. His eyes were closed, his lips half parted, his chest heaving.

Oliver dropped himself on Wovyn's cock faster and faster, taken in by his lust. He was small but he was endurant, Wovyn had to give it to him, yet the imp couldn't resist helping him by lifting his hips after a while. It was too much, he had to quicken the pace even more somehow. Oliver didn't protest. On the contrary, he moaned Wovyns' name breathily between moans, and sometimes he got stuck on the first syllable, too far gone to realize that he was repeating "Wowo" over and over again. Not that the imp minded. He was devouring his cookie with his eyes; he couldn't tear them away from him.

So beautiful.

Oliver started to touch himself shortly before he came with a cry, hard enough that some landed on his chest and some on Wovyn's chest. The latter followed closely behind, unable to resist the way Oliver tightened around him with each waver of pleasure. With a growl, he slammed his human down and emptied himself deep within. His claws curled and pressed against Oliver's skin, threatening to piece it. His Oliver.

Oliver didn't have the strength to move. He was panting hard, his head drawn back and his eyes closed, enjoying the afterglow. Wovyn really wanted to kiss him but he knew better than to try now when the other was still recuperating. So he waited, and eventually Oliver straightened and looked down at him.

"Next time, I go on top," said Wovyn.

Oliver couldn't keep serious and started to laugh. "All right. Is that all you want to say."

"Cookie. You're really beautiful when you come, and I want to kiss you."

Oliver smiled and leaned in, obliging him. He was still panting a little. He winced a little when both of their chests were pushed together with a wet sound.

"Second shower today," he muttered.

"Maybe this time we can take it together?" said Wovyn.

"No. I know you. I don't think I got this enough for shower sex."

Wovyn pouted. It didn't work.

"Come on, you big baby," told him Oliver. "If you are nice, you'll get a third round tonight. It will be the death of me, but we got other things to do. Didn't you say you wanted me to make your an apple crumble?"

Wovyn nodded. This definitely put a smile on his face.


	15. Standing Up

Oliver, at work, was making himself a coffee when he was approached by his colleague Remy. The first thing he did was wince while the other still couldn't see his face because he didn't like Remy. There was something about him that just got on his nerves.

"Hey, hello Oliver," said the man.

Oliver turned around with a smile. "Hello, Remy. How are you?"

"I'm fine. You seem quite happy today, it's great."

Oliver frowned. "I do?"

"Yes, you've been smiling and dare I say - you were even whistling during your work." He chuckled. "Not too much that it annoyed me, you know, it's fine. I'm glad things are getting better, you know."

Oliver was now more and more confused. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know, I don't want to appear as if I am making assumptions." Remy started to make himself some coffee as well, now that Oliver wasn't using the machine anymore. "You are most certainly a very capable employee, always have been. But before... how can I say that? You were always a little bit grumpy. You never smiled. Which is a shame, you are a handsome man. But now... I might say that I never saw you happier. Are you getting a taste for work? Maybe something happened."

Remy was the second one to tell him that he looked different since... well since Wovyn had laid him on his kitchen table. Was that really that obvious? Oliver turned a little red. Remy noticed and smiled.

"You've met someone, have you?" he asked. He leaned in a little, eager for more. "It's written all over your face. What's her name?"

"His name is... Wovyn."

Oliver didn't know why he said it, but he did. He tensed, expecting an outlash or the other to back away in disgust.

Remy's eyes widened. "You never told me you were into men. Wovyn? Never heard a name like that before - it's nice enough. Glad you found someone for you then."

And that was that. Oliver looked at Remy in shock for a split second, before figuring that if the other was casual then he should be too. So he forced himself to relax and enjoy the fact that he had actually come out to someone. It was the first time he did. It felt empowering.

"Yeah, he hasn't told me where it comes from," said Oliver.

"I know one or two that's going to be saddened to hear that you are taken, but I suppose they never had a chance in the first place."

Oliver made a face. He knew at least one of the persons Remy was alluding to: Rebecca had asked him if they could do on a date several times. She was a sweet woman but he knew that he wouldn't be able to make her happy. Even at the time where he felt at his worse, he would rather be alone than make someone miserable with him.

"Well then," said Remy. "I best be going. Congrats, and I hope you two make each other happy. Life is too short to be miserable."

"I hope so too," said Oliver. "Have a good day."

Remy smiled and waved at him as he walked away. He wasn't that bad after all, thought Oliver. Maybe he had always been this nice and Oliver could see it now. Not that the latter minded. Maybe they could even become friends - not good friends, but friends enough that they were deserving of the title. He certainly wouldn't mind that.

He could think of a dozen other places he would rather be than the pharmacy, first of which being home, with Wovyn. They had started a series together since the beginning of the week, and although they rarely paid attention to it until the end, they enjoyed it. Or maybe the correct term was that they enjoyed each other while watching it? Oliver was a little sore between the legs from all the time they had spent together but he couldn't be happier with this new habit.

He'd rather be home but the pharmacist had already sent him several messages to remind him that his order had arrived, and it would be strange if he didn't show up to pick it up since he was supposed to need it. The most painful part of it all was probably going to be the price tag but he didn't look forward to seeing her again.

"Ah, mister Renold," she said when it was his turn. "You came."

Her tone fell right in that middle zone where it was friendly enough to make one feel guilty. Oliver, despite himself, felt a dart of it pierce his heart. He lowered his eyes for a moment, then looked back up, determined to get over it as fast as possible.

"I've sent you a message about your order arriving Monday," she said. Oliver's eyes darted to her name tag. She was still called Emily Spencer. "I take that you couldn't come until now?"

"Yeah, that's it," said Oliver.

"I'm sure you had your reasons to neglect your health," she said. "It's not my place to pry. I'll be going in the back to get your order, I'll be here in a moment."

Oliver was mildly annoyed at her. He thought that she was nosy and would better be off minding her own business. The reasonable part of him told him that he was being irrational, that she was only trying to do her job. He gleefully ignored that bit. There was something about her that threw her off and it totally had nothing to do with the fact that she was unwittingly putting herself between him and Wovyn.

No... nothing at all.

She came back with his box and placed it on the table. Oliver caught a glimpse of the price tag and winced. This was the last time he was buying this garbage. This was the last time he was going to this pharmacy.

"It's for your own good," she said. She must have seen him make a face. "Sir, I swear that you'll feel that way until something really serious happens to you."

She really should mind her own business. "I'm taking them, no need to make a fuss."

She sighed. "You know, I have a sister with your condition. She's a smart woman but she got in some trouble with some... group, and now she refuses to take her medication. Says some crazy things about how society is trying to choke people like her. I might be speaking out of line, mister Renold, but better take some medicine than have people tell you that you are crazy. Trust me."

There was some anger in her tone, even if that anger wasn't directed to him. He stared at her. Did she hate her sister? Was it because she was thinking differently than her? He wondered what sort of courage it took to face down all of society's ideas about what was right and what was wrong. Did he have this sort of courage?

He remembered how sad Wovyn had been when he would tell him that he didn't believe that he was real.

"That's none of your business," he told her.

"Pardon?" she said. She had heard him, he had spoken loud enough.

"I said, that's none of your business. Also, maybe you are the crazy one if you think that your own sister is insane. Ever thought of that?"

"I never said that I thought that she was insane! It's just that people... people think that."

Oliver paid her. "You are trying to put your nose where it doesn't belong and it's very unprofessional. And disrespectful, considering you are discussing my health in front of other clients. Good day, miss Spencer."

"I was only warning you about what might happen."

He didn't reply. He knew that he had spoken loud enough to catch the attention of her boss. The latter was looking in their direction now, as if she knew what was up. Maybe it wasn't the first time that Emily was doing such a number. He just turned around and left without another word, knowing that this wasn't his problem anymore. 

He didn't leave right away once he was in his car. Instead, he tossed his bag in the passenger's seat and crossed his arms, thinking.

He felt quite proud of himself. Telling people some of his truth felt a lot better than what he had expected. He couldn't believe that he had never tried it before!

Of course, he didn't think that he would have the courage to do the same thing with his mother but that would come in due time. His mother was a special case anyway. It didn't take a genius level of IQ to figure out that she was a case on her own. He was lucky that he wasn't living with her at the moment or things would be a lot harder.

And Remy's reaction to the announcement that he was gay? The other man had barely batted an eye at it. How many other people in Oliver's life would be just as fine with it as he had? The friends from the gym? His work colleagues? He was still a little scared but less than before.

Did all his strength he suddenly had come from Wovyn?

No, that wasn't the right way to formulate it. Rather, Oliver finally had something worth fighting for. Remy was right. Right now, Oliver was happier than he had ever been. He was going to hold on to this, he promised himself. He didn't believe that everything would be perfect right away but he was going to make it work, somehow. It was going to be worth it.

He glanced at the plastic bag next to him, the bag that held the little box with the little pills in it.

Oh, this wasn't that important. This was the last time he had gone to buy them and he wouldn't be taking any, he told himself. He would be crazy if he did! They would sit in his cabinet, unused, like his previous box, until they passed the safety date of consumption, and then he would be free to throw them away with no remorse.


	16. Beast

In the few days where Oliver had known Wovny, his flat had already changed a bit. Or rather, Oliver had changed the way he viewed it.

He no longer had any desire to check if the birds on the shelf in the entrance had moved, and he didn't look at the five paintings in his hallway. What for? All he wanted was to find his way back to the imp's arms, that was waiting for him. Maybe Wovny was hungry and wanted something to snack on before dinner, or he had seen something interesting today he wanted to talk to him about.

"I'm home!" he said. He took his shoes off and tossed them next to the rack where they were supposed to go. He listened for an answer and, when he had none, checked the hallway.

When he turned around, Wovyn was looking through his bag.

"Hey!" he cried, but he was laughing at the same time.

"Did you go shopping?" he asked. He pulled the pills from the bag and squinted at them. "What's this? They smell funny."

"Something I had to go get," told him Oliver. "It's the pills that would make me blind to you."

Wovyn looked at him with big, hurt eyes. That single look tore Oliver's heart apart.

"I'm not going to be taking any of them," he explained. "I'd be crazy if I did."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I swear. The lady at the pharmacy tried to scare me by telling me that I would be crazy if I didn't take any. I told her to fuck off."

"Really?"

"Not really. But she can't scare me."

"I'm scarier." Wovyn handed him over the box.

"Indeed. Lemme clean this up somewhere where I'll never touch it again and then I'll come back to you."

Wovyn grinned. There was that twinkle in his eye he always had when he had some sort of plan to cause mischief. Oliver felt his breath catch in his throat when he considered what sort of mischief that might be, considering that Wovyn had had one thing on his mind lately.

He hurried to the bathroom and put the box in the cabinet behind the mirror. Even if he wanted to go back as quickly as he could, he took a moment to look at himself in the mirror. He had indeed changed a little, he could see why people kept telling him that. He couldn't quite say what it was. Maybe he was just holding himself straighter, he had heard that those sort of things could make quite a difference. He grinned to himself and left.

The first thing he noticed was that the flat was awfully quiet, all of a sudden. Or rather, there was a tension in the air that wasn't normal, as if something was about to happen. Naturally, his first reflex was to look for the monster.

"Wovyn?" he called, walking to the kitchen.

No one there. He made sure to go around the table, knowing that the imp liked to hide behind, but in vain. He looked into the living room but found nothing there but the mess of blankets and empty plates they had left from last night. Moved by his old habits, Oliver folded them quickly and brought the plats to the kitchen but didn't clean them up, sensing that there were more important things to do.

There was no way Wovyn was hiding in the bathroom. He took showers now, like a civilized person, but still didn't like hanging out in there that much. That left the storage room and the bedroom.

Oliver went for the bedroom.

He didn't see anyone; of course he didn't, Wovyn was a master at hiding. Yet he felt eyes on him, hungry eyes, which confirmed his suspicion. With a small smirk, he walked in confidently, pretending as if he was just going to redo the bed.

Wovyn tacked him so fast Oliver didn't even hear him coming. He certainly felt him though and heard the animalistic growl the monster produced as he pushed him down on the bed. The sound went straight to his crotch. Should it? Anyone else would have probably been terrified in this situation. Oliver laughed.

He didn't laugh long. A strong hand held the back of his neck and pushed him into the sheets, a heavy body pressed him down even further. Oliver felt Wovyn's tail wrap around his ankle possessively, but he was more concerned with the growing hard-on he could feel against his backside.

"You hungry beast," commented the human.

Wovyn just growled again as a reply and licked the side of his neck. There was a brief pressure of sharp teeth against his sensitive skin. Oliver, as a reply, pressed back against the imp, against his boner. He was rewarded by a second growl, this one deeper in Wovyn's chest, like a warning. A clawed hand gripped his hip with a strength Oliver couldn't fight, lifting them until the human was on his knees. He still had his face down in the sheets, though.

Oliver moaned lightly as Wovyn started to grind against him. Despite the clothes, he could just feel him become more and more excited from the friction and it was influencing him as well. He was already regretting having worn such tight pants this morning. He hadn't anticipated the speed at which he would be aroused. He reached down to tangle his hand with the opening of his pants, more and more desperate to give his erection room to grow.

Wovyn sensed what he was doing and his hand went to pull up his shirt. Oliver had to quickly open a few buttons to help slide it off, knowing that Wovyn would tear it if he didn't. With the creature holding back none of his strength, it was hard not to get overwhelmed. When the shirt was tossed to the side, Wovyn turned his attention to Oliver's half-opened pants, literally yanking them off. The rough cloth burned against Oliver's skin from the friction, but in a good way, making the human shudder.

He was exposed. Held down by the neck, his pants down to his knees, there was nothing stopping Wovyn from pillaging his body. The latter didn't even have to be asked. His tail left Oliver's ankle. Seconds later, its lubed tip pressed hard against his opening, slipping into him with nothing to stop it. Oliver gasped as when he was suddenly stretched until he was straining but he loved the slight pain. He pushed back against Wovyn and moaned to encourage him.

This made the monster go wild. He bit down on Oliver's shoulder, his teeth just shy of breaking the skin, and started to fuck Oliver with his tail. The agile limb was precise and merciless, aiming for that spot inside the human that made him cry out, opening him wider each time it slammed into him. Oliver's cock, rock-hard, was dripping precum on his thighs and the sheets under him.

Oliver felt Wovyn move behind him and heard him open his pants. He knew that he was almost ready for his monster, they both knew that.

"Horny beast," he moaned.

In response, Wovyn finally let go of his shoulder and licked the bite mark. Then he licked up Oliver's neck, grunting as if he was enjoying apple crumble. Oliver let him have his treat, let him use his body for his own pleasure, both unable and unwilling to fight back against his sheer strength. Was it bad that being used in this way made him hard? Would he care if it was? It felt so good to be entirely powerless. He felt safe.

Wovyn's tail pulled away, leaving Oliver woefully empty. This made the human produce a small, helpless sound as he moved his hips back, desperate for more. Wovyn growled back and finally let go of his neck, placing both of his hands on Oliver's hips.

He was rough from the moment he slammed himself into him, bottoming in one smooth moment only to pull away. Oliver grunted from the strain. The pain only sharpened the pleasure of being full of Wovyn's cock. He needed more, and he needed it fast.

Wovyn gave him fast. He thrust into him with all of his strength, almost desperately, using his grip and his hips to move Oliver as he pleased on his cock. His human could only moan and try to help. Even if he wanted, he would be unable to get away from this. He was nothing but a tool for Wovyn's pleasure. He could hear him grunt and moan behind him, could feel his fingers grip his hips to the point of bruising. Each time Wovyn rammed into him, he could feel the entire bed shake under them.

Oliver reached under him to grip himself. He was leaking abundantly already, spilling some precome over his fingers as he rubbed himself frantically. The initial burn had faded into pleasure, an explosion of pleasure each time Wovyn slammed into that sweet spot up his ass. He did so with bone-shattering strenth, abusing that spot as if he meant to make Oliver come each time. Oliver himself felt as if he was about to lose his mind each time.

He came first. With a cry, Oliver ejaculated all over his fingers, hot seed splattering on the sheets and his chest. He tensed around Wovyn, locking his cock in a grip that meant to milk the monster, unsuccessfully. Wovyn growled and switched his thrusts to small, deep ones, trying to get Oliver to tighten around his base. His human, entirely fucked out, let him do whatever he wanted.

Wovyn came shortly after with a strangled growl, coating Oliver's insides with his hot seed. His human moaned with him, shuddering, panting, knowing that he had done good if he had brought Wovyn to his orgasm. He welcomed his weight when he crashed down, welcomed his hold when he wrapped his arms around him, and they both stayed laying next to one another as they tried to recover their breath.

"Welcome home," said Wovyn. "I missed you today."

Oliver chuckled. "I felt that."

"And you are going to feel it until tomorrow too."

"Oh god... Wovyn, I got work tomorrow."

"I know."

"You are not getting anything more tonight."

"I know. Still worth it."

"Wovyn!"

Wovyn laughed and licked his throat and cheek. He kissed him, and cleaned him, and kissed him again so sweetly that when he asked if he was forgiven, Oliver said of course. Not that he had ever been mad at him. He could never be mad at Wovyn.

For once, Oliver was the one that was awake the latest but he didn't mind. He didn't mind anything at all when he was laying in Wovyn's arms. From time to time, the imp moved a little and started to purr in his sleep for a couple of breath, feeling Oliver nearby. It was the most adorable thing and Oliver had not told him that he was doing that yet, relishing the fact that he was the only person in the world that knew.

A week ago, at this exact time, Wovyn had been pestering him by climbing on his bed and he had been angry at him. Now, he couldn't even imagine how he could have felt angry at Wovyn. He was the sweetest, sexiest imp alive, Oliver was sure of it. He didn't even question whether or not he was real or not.

It still felt a little strange to care so little about what the world might think of him. Heck, he didn't even care about what his family might think. He had been a miserable person when he tried to keep up with this façade of normality so now he was done with trying to be normal. Now it was just a question of who to tell and who not to tell. Those that had a problem with the way he lived his life didn't deserve being part of it.

That made him wonder what might have happened if he had come to that conclusion earlier in his life. He didn't know what might have happened then. He thought longingly about all the times where he had made himself miserable when happiness had been so close all this time, but he quickly realized something: he wouldn't have reached for it without having a taste of it first. He had forgotten how his pills made him feel until he didn't have them anymore. He had never known what it was like to have someone. It hurt him to think that he had spent years of his life wasting it but now it was in the past.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face. Unknowingly to him, he spoke in his sleep when he snuggled against Wovyn, talking about how he was so soft and warm. From time to time, Wovyn opened a golden eye and watched him, a knowing smile on his face. When the wind shifted, drop his the window like the soft tapping of fingers wanting to be let in. 

Outside in the night, under the rain, a lanky figure walked in the rain. On its back clung a smaller form. When they approached a night light, their faces stood out, pale, with empty black eyes, their sickly white skin gleaming from the rain that dripped down from their long, dirty hair. They had no lips, their sharp fangs were even paler than their skin. Neither felt the cold of the night despite the lack of clothes.

The tall one, the mother, crouched in a dark alley, moving around piles of trash as she sniffed loudly. She a rat corpse, lifted it, then gave it to her child. The little one tore its head off clean before munching on the body with small grunts.

As he ate, she returned to her search. Her son wasn't like her, she thought, he was different and always hungry. But she loved him. He was all she had and more than enough. One day, he'll be tall, and strong, and terrifying. She turned her head all the way around and pressed her fangs on his forehead for a kiss.


	17. She

Oliver whistled to himself as he made himself a cup of coffee. The only thing that could have dampened his mood was the fact that his ass was sore. After the number Wovyn had done on him yesterday, that didn't come as a surprise. It was too late to regret it now that the excitement had worn out. On top of that, the bite mark he had left him was still glaringly obvious on his shoulder. It was a good thing that Oliver earned so many turtlenecks, they hid love bites wonderfully.

He was happy.

Not even the rain darkened his mood. In fact, he rather liked the rain, it was soothing and perfect weather to snuggle up with some homemade treats. He wanted to do that with Wovyn when he came home, even if it only was for five minutes. Granted, that probably won't be long. The imp wasn't the type to sit down and do nothing. Oliver didn't mind. All he could think about what that in half an hour he was free to go back to him.

He heard small footsteps behind him. He turned around only to be met with an empty room and dismissed it as a figment of his imagination. Silly him. This had sounded like a child running, but why would there be a child at this time in his office? Must be one of his hallucinations.

He paused. He didn't have hallucinations. That was why he wasn't taking pills in the first place.

He glanced over his shoulder once more. He was alone.

He hurried back at his office. It was Friday afternoon, a lot of people had gone back home early after having saved up hours during the week to enjoy an early weekend. Not that it mattered. He sat down at his desk and leaned over his computer, trying to focus on the last numbers of the week, but he was distracted.

His eyes were drawn to the five bird statuettes on his desk. They resembled the ones he had at home, in his office, except that they were ordered from the smallest to the biggest. Wovyn would probably hate their lack of colours but he thought that they were pretty...

He frowned. Their order was reversed.

He stood up and walked around to take a closer look at them, but he was sure of it. He always placed the smaller one near the edge of his desk, yet there was the biggest one, in its spot. Seeing that made a cold shudder run up his spine. Someone had _deliberately _done that, knowing he would notice. And that someone knew him well.

He looked around, unnerved, but he was still alone. Very alone, in fact. None of his colleagues were nearby. He returned to his spot without putting the statuettes back in place but he couldn't help but glance at them regularly. He couldn't focus on his work.

He best go home.

He got up and started to pack his bag. His hands were shaking. He could feel a gaze on him, a cold, dead gaze, but each time he looked around there wasn't anyone there. This only hurried him.

He dropped his pencil case in his hast, his open pencil case; a pen rolled under his desk and to the other side. Yet for a second he froze, started by the sound of it crossing the wooden floor. It laid tauntingly out of his reach. He walked around his desk to pick it up.

He heard small steps, and whipped around, startled again. No one. He was too much on his nerves, he told himself, this was probably all in his imagination. Silly him. Silly, silly Oliver, imagining sounds, right?

He spotted his bag. It wasn't where he had left it, it was several feet away, poking out from under his half-open cabinet. Hidden, yet left in the open just enough it to be spotted. And to grab it, Oliver was forced to thrust his hand into the darkness. He stared at it. His heart was beating so strong it was the only sound he could hear.

Until it wasn't. Something, nails, long long claws, tapped on some wood behind him. He knew that sound. He knew she wanted him to look around. She was watching him with those cold eyes of hers. She knew that he could hear her again. He closed his eyes, shut them tight.

He heard her crawl. She could move without a sound sometimes but now her claws were scraping the walls, the ground, with each step. There was the wet sound of a flicker of the tongue. As she approached him, he could hear her breathing, this thin whistle like wind escaping from a gaping tombstone. He could feel it on him. Up his back, through his clothes. Against the back of his neck. Her presence behind him had no heat, it was as if she drew his heat into her. But the worse was her smell. It was like something old, that had been left in a mouldy cellar for years. And a very, very subtle note of rot. That smell was what brought back the memories, the hours of him looking for her in the dark, the cold laugher when he cried, the sleepless nights and the knowledge that he was alone, alone whatever he did.

She stood there for what felt like ages, even if it was only a few seconds. He felt her move away more than he heard her. The moment she did, it was like a spell was broken. He rushed to get his back, yanked it out of the cabinet and turned around.

He was alone in his office. Like he was crazy.

He didn't have to consider it twice. He rushed out and down the hallway, walking fast even if he wanted to run. He knew the feeling well, he was so good at pretending that he wasn't insane. He had gone through this many times.

"Oliver! Heading out?" called Remy.

Oliver turned around and stared at Remy, that was washing his cup in the sink of the restroom. He had not expected to be talked to. He stared at the older man, at loss for words.

"In a hurry?" asked Remy.

"No, not really, just finished my work," said Oliver. He glanced down the hallway, towards his office. It was empty. "Going to leave a little in advance, I'll be leaving you."

"It's fine. There's something I got to tell you, though, before you leave. I've been thinking about what you told me the other day."

Oliver stared at him but couldn't remember for the life of him what they had talked about.

"About you being gay."

"Oh."

"Yeah... I didn't tell you that, but I got a daughter who's gay. Lesbian, I mean."

There was a movement in Oliver's periphery. Looking away would betray him. He kept his eyes fixed on Remy and had to remind himself to blink like a normal human being.

"I actually reacted really badly when she came out," continued to say Remy. "Not because I think it's wrong or anything, but it was so sudden. It's funny how I never considered it when she grew up, and I considered myself open-minded. I was scared that she was going to have nothing but a miserable life because she is different."

There was a shadow down the hallway. Tall, thin limbs, moving with short bursts. Oliver gulped.

"That's why I said things I could have never told her. I regret it dearly today but back then it seemed like common sense to me. I'm glad she didn't simply shut me out of her life."

"That's great," said Oliver.

"Not so much. I wish I would have been a better father back then. That's what I wanted to say; I'm so glad you told me. You're not my daughter but... I did well. I also think that you were very courageous to tell me. I'm honoured."

Oliver didn't know what to say.

She was moving closer.

"But I'm sorry, I'm stopping you from leaving with my rambles." Remy laughed. "Go, go enjoy your weekend. Say hello to Wovyn from me."

"Thank you." Oliver managed to smile. It didn't feel like one, it was almost painful. He turned around and walked to the door quickly. He had no idea if he was being rude, all he could think about was that he could feel her eyes on his back.

He ran through the parking lot because it was empty, too his car, and slammed the door behind him. Safe. He blew through his nose and rubbed his face slowly, feeling his heart slowly calm down. He was okay... he was going to be okay.

But even if he tried to fight them, the memories came flooding back. He remembered his teenage years all too clearly. How she would chase him, stop him from sleeping until he was exhausted. When he would tell his mother about it, she would tell him to ignore her, that she wasn't real. He wanted to believe her, but the monster... she was always there. Sometimes she would leave for a time, but she would always come back.

And she scared him shitless.

"You're going to be okay," he said. "You're stronger now, you can deal with this. She'll leave eventually."

There was a shadow cast on one of the back windows. He looked back but saw no one. It could be anything. Even a bird or someone that had passed by, he tried to reason. It was time to leave.

Driving soothed him. He knew the way by heart and the motions he went through were a welcome routine at this point.

"And she can't know where I live," he told himself, continuing his thoughts aloud. "She's not that fast. She can't run after a car."

He pushed his speed just above the driving limit where he could afford it though, just in case. It couldn't hurt even if he got a fine. He'd rather pay one than be sorry.

Home was a welcome sight regardless.

He left his car and hurried to the entrance of his complex. Even there, where he knew that he was safe, he wanted to start running again - but that would be pointless. He laughed to himself, trying to chastise himself for being this much of a wimpy cat, but his heart wasn't quite into it.

"Wovyn! I'm home!" he called when he passed the door.

He didn't get an answer. He told himself that it shouldn't worry him as much as it did. Wovyn had a life and sometimes he went out to hang out with other creatures from the neighbourhood. Or maybe he was in the flat and laying in ambush like he had done yesterday. The memory made Oliver smile, clearing some of the clouds that had been obscuring his mind.

That's when he smelled it. It was faint, but there was no mistaking this subtle aroma of rot.


	18. Fading

Oliver reached out for an umbrella and held it in front of him. His hand was shaking. His eyes darted from right to left. There was the sound of something banging, somewhere in the flat.

With slow, careful steps, he walked to the living room, following the source of the sound. One of the window's glass was smashed and left open. He swallowed. He lived on the third floor. He readjusted his grip on his umbrella and walked over to close it, careful not to step on any glass.

Something ran down the hallway. By the time he turned around, it was already gone. Again the sound of those small footsteps - he didn't remember that from the last time she had haunted him. Had she discovered a new trick to torment him?

He looked down the hallway again. There was his room, still dark from when he had left without opening his curtains this morning. He knew that whatever he was looking for, it was in there. He slowly followed it, his weapon raised like a bat. He had done some baseball when he was younger. He wasn't quite sure if that counted in self-defence.

Nothing looked out of place at first glance. He reached out to turn on the light but his gaze met the one of the Thing that was under his bed and he froze.

Large, pitch-black eyes in a bony face. A lipless mouth, full of sharp fangs. A neck that was so twisted that its pointy chin rested between his shoulder blades. It laid there, crouched, its clawed hands sinking in the carpet, so still, it didn't look alive.

Oliver drew in a shaky breath but didn't scream.

It pounced at him from under the bed with an ear-piercing screech. Oliver shouted and swung his umbrella without thinking. That sent it flying back to the ground before it could reach him, even if it was standing again before Oliver even realized that he had actually touched the creature. That's when he got his first good look at it.

It was bony and lanky, but also small. There were muscles on that thin frame. Some cheeks. Maybe its belly could be described as chubby. A child?

It flickered its long black tongue at Oliver in annoyance, rubbing the side of its head, and got on all four, turning its head until it was all the way around on his shoulders. Oliver slowly backed away as it crawled in his direction.

"Please leave," he told it. "This is my home."

The thing hissed and charged him. Oliver didn't hesitate. He brought his umbrella down on the creature once, drawing a yelp from it as he stopped it in his tracks. It was slow enough that he could stand his ground in front of it. It wasn't that bad.

There was a low growl behind him, so deep it was like a tombstone opening. Never had he heard such a sound, yet he recognized it like the cavemen recognized the sound of a lioness ready to pounce as he was attacking her cub. He slowly turned around.

She was there.

The way she held herself on the walls of the hallway reminded him of a spider. A human-shaped spider, although the resemblance stopped there. Her skin looked like leather, her eyes were two black sockets in her skull. When she opened her maw, she had but rows and rows of needle-like teeth sticking in all direction. There were markings on her body, dark paint that looked awfully like dried blood. They had always reminded Oliver of runes, as if she was born out of a nameless, horrific ritual, a corpse brought back to life. But what sort of corpse possessed limbs like sticks with the strength of a horse and the ability to bend itself in any direction she pleased? What sort of power had been granted to her, that she could move without a sound and scale buildings?

He half expected her to smile. She could do it, he knew. Too many times she had been standing in the dark, waiting for him to find her, with that lipless smile of hers, that made her face gape on each side of her teeth. She didn't now.

She growled.

Oliver ran into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him. Instinctively, he leaned against it with all of his weight before locking it. If he wouldn't have, she would have opened it again with the way she slammed into it. She growled again, a growl that turned into a horrifying, bone-shattering scream as she clawed down the wooden panel.

She was mad. Which was normal, thought Oliver, if he considered the fact that the thing he had beaten up with an umbrella was her child. She slammed her fists in wood, making the door shake in its hinges, and screamed again.

Memories of his teens flashed in front of Oliver's eyes. She'd chase him like that, he knew, sometimes with a weapon in her hands like an axe or a knife. She would laugh at him then! But she wasn't laughing now. Now, she sounded like she wanted to rip his eyes off, leave them gaping like her own. In all the time she had tormented him, she had never sounded like that. She usually preferred more subtle approaches and he was stuck.

There was another way.

As soon as he had the idea, he jumped to his feet and opened his window cabinet. There, on the shelf, was the box with his pills, still unopened. His hands were shaking so much that he dropped it in the sink before he managed to open it. One dose was all he needed, he told himself. It went down fast with a drink of water.

Never had she touched him when he was on his pills. He knew how creatures acted when trying to touch people that couldn't see them: they fazed right through. When he didn't see her, he was untouchable.

Now, all he needed to do was remain here until it was in effect.

While he was busy, she had calmed down and turned to her more usual approach of things. Her claws were no longer trying to mess with the door. Instead, she was tapping lightly on it, exploring the handle, trying to see if she could sneak under it. Oliver backed away from the door.

"I'm going to hurt you," she whispered. Or maybe she didn't say that, it was hard to tell with the way she spoke, like a stream of wind between her razor-like teeth.

Oliver shuddered. He had abandoned his weapon umbrella in the entrance. He still had the toilet brush but he didn't see himself going very far with that. His last hope was that the door held until she was gone. Or that someone saved him.

"You can't hide in there forever, I can wait forever." This time, there was no doubt that she told him that. He recognized the words.

"Go away."

She laughed. It was as chilling as he remembered it to be. 

A vicious growl cut through the air. This was a sound that Oliver had never heard before but he recognized it immediately.

"Wovyn!" he said, pressing himself against the door.

The growl turned into a roar and Oliver heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh. She didn't like being attacked at all, for the screeched back at Wovyn with all the fury she could muster. There was some tumbling. Oliver heard one of his picture frames dropping and shattering. The sound of the struggle travelled down the hallway, towards the living room.

Oliver unlocked the door and stepped out bravely, holding the toilet brush. He armed himself in vain, for the hallway was empty. He quickly switched to his trusty umbrella and charged towards the scene of the battle without losing a moment.

He stopped on the threshold to take in the shocking scene.

The fighters were apart, slowly turning around one another, waiting for an opening. Wovyn was the one closest to the door but not even Oliver's apparition broke his focus. The human gasped when he caught sight of a dark liquid dripping down the side of the imp from a massive scratch. He was hurt, was he going to be okay? Meanwhile, she didn't seem the least bit weakened.

"Stay back," growled the imp.

Oliver obeyed, watching on anxiously, but knowing that should he have but one chance he would jump into the fray. His umbrella had a metal end and he wouldn't hesitate before plunging it into one of her empty eyes. Would it hurt her if he did? He had no idea but he would try. Something in the eye had to hurt.

She crouched and let out a loud hiss, ready to pounce. Wovyn, on the other hand, stood tall and spread his arms, appearing even bigger than what he already was. She was tall and lanky but he was even taller and looked as if he was weighing three times more than she. He didn't seem the least hindered by his wound.

As if they were set in motion by some invisible signal, both fighters pounced at each other. Claws and teeth, muscles and speed, they struggled against each other fiercely. Oliver saw the fight unfold in flashes. He saw Wovyn grab her, and then she escaped him with a twist. He saw her swipe him across the face. He saw her sink her teeth in the flesh of his shoulder.

Wovyn roarer in pain and tried to shake her off, but she held strong. He twisted and rolled, trying to have her twist at an angle where she would have to let him go but her body contorted like the one of a doll. Her limbs twisted in angles that made her lose anything that might make her look human in the eyes of Oliver.

But Wovyn hadn't said his last word. She had danced out of his reach up to now and this was what had let her take the advantage, but now she was fixed to him. He grabbed her arm and bit down as well. Oliver closed his eyes for an instant, unable to look as bones cracked, old, dusty flesh tore and she screamed.

When the human opened his eyes again, he knew the fight had been won. She had let Wovyn go and was standing apart from him, glaring at him. On the ground between them was her severed arm. She didn't bleed nor did she seem in pain but she didn't seem to keen on jumping right back in the fray. Her face was covered in blue; it took Oliver a moment to realized that this liquid was Wovyn's blood.

"Go," growled Wovyn.

She didn't move.

"Go!" he roared. He threw her arm at her.

She caught it mid-air with a snarl.

"Rekin," she said.

It was a name. Her child came running through the hallways and hopped on her back. Oliver was surprised to see how little they looked alike when next to one another. Where she was dry and leathery, her kid was fleshy, albeit thin, with actual eyes. They simply didn't look like they were the same species. Oliver wondered why.

With one last hiss, she crawled out the window, and that was the last they ever saw of her. 

Wovyn turned around and Oliver gasped. The imp had been right when he had said that he was much scarier when he fought. His teeth were bared, his muscles tensed as if ready to pounce. He didn't look like he was feeling his wounds, the gashing one on his shoulder or the scratches across his face. The vision of what he had looked like lasted for a second only. The moment the imp saw that Oliver was fine, he relaxed to his usual self, the cute, sweet imp that Oliver adored.

"Cookie," he said.

"Wowo." Oliver took a step in his direction.

Before he could reach him, Wovyn fell on one knee. Oliver cried out and rushed to his side to hold him, just in time for the creature to fall in his arms heavily.

"Wovyn! What is happening?"

The imp turned to the side so that he would look at Oliver. "Ghouls are venomous," he grunted. "Paralysis."

"Paralysis? You need an antidote!"

"I'll be fine," he said. He adjusted his position weakly, resting his head on Oliver's lap. "My mom made me big and strong. I'll just be sick for a while."

The big idiot grinned at him. Oliver looked at his wound on his shoulder. Blue blood poured out, dripping on the floor, staining the carpet. He didn't care that he was going to have to change it, all he wanted was Wovyn to be better again. Right now, he looked anything but that.

"For how long will you be sick?" asked Oliver.

"A few days," said Wovyn.

"And your shoulder? Your face?"

"Sexy scars," he said without missing a beat.

"Wovyn!"

The imp started to laugh. Oliver, despite himself, smiled weakly. He was an idiot but he was his idiot. His idiot, that had jumped in to defend him when he was in danger. Without a care for the blood in which he was covered, Oliver leaned over and held him.

"Thank you," he said.

"It was our deal, wasn't it?" replied Wovyn. His speech was more and more laboured "But now, I'm going to need some care. Warm, food, and there is a witch that can give you... an antidote."

"A witch?" Those existed? "Where is she? Are you going to be all right?"

"Paper. Write down the address while I can talk."

While he could talk? This was bad. Ghoul venom wasn't deadly, was it? Paralysis poisons could stop a heart from beating, and there was all this blood Wovyn was losing that was making him weaker. Oliver stood up and rushed to the kitchen to get the block of scrap paper he used to write down receipts when he was experimenting with baking.

When he came back, he froze in the doorway. Wovyn was fading. His and chest was clear but his fingers and feet were semi-transparent and losing consistency quickly.

The pill was taking effect.

"Wovyn, tell me the address, quick," he said.

The imp opened his eyes to look at him. "What's happening?"

Oliver bit his lip, hesitating, but there was no time to feel remorse now. "When I was scared and in the bathroom, she was mad and-- I took a pill. You're fading. I won't see you."

Wovyn's eyes widened and all trace of his good humour vanished from him. "Don't go," he said.

"I'm sorry, I can't stop it," said Oliver. "It's starting. Tell me the address now, we have no time."

Wovyn dictated it to him. Oliver wrote it down quickly, his hands shaking, but he couldn't afford to panic now. When he had the name of the place, he rushed to his bathroom to grab all his bandages and a disinfectant. When he came back, Wovyn was already gone up to his elbows and knees.

He sprayed Wovyn's shoulder first to clean it. Her teeth had pierced the imp's skin in a doze little places but it didn't look like she had pierced any artery. The wound on Wovyn's chest was just as ugly but not very deep. Oliver was able to close it using some neat tape he had picked up from the pharmacy because they could act as suture points - and he was quite incapable of doing those.

Wovny moved his arm. Oliver felt a ghostly touch from an invisible hand on his cheek.

"I don't want to be alone," he whimpered.

"You won't be. I'll be back before you know it. I'll... I'll leave the antidote on the table for you to take it. And some water, and some food. And cookies. I'm sorry."

"I deserve all the cookies in the world," said Wovyn with a weak smile.

"You'll have them. Every single one of them."

"Good. Then I'll be fine."

Oliver leaned in and kissed Wovyn. The imp kissed him back weakly. Time was running out. Oliver cleaned the scar on his cheek and got up.

"I'll be back before you know it."

"I'll be here," said Wovyn. "I'll be fine. Don't drive too fast."

As if Oliver was going to do that when Wovyn was in danger.


	19. Lola the Witch

Lola Spencer. That was the name that was written on the doorbell. Oliver was sure he had read the name Spencer somewhere else recently but he didn't remember where. Not that it mattered, not right now at least. He rang.

And then, impatient when the door didn't open in the next five seconds, he rang a second time.

"I'm coming," said a voice from within.

There was the sound of someone moving around, some other words were spoken lower, as if to a pet that was in the way, and the door opened. Oliver gasped, surprised by the appearance of the witch. He hadn't realised that, up to that point, he had half-expected some old hag with a pointy hat just like in children's books.

Instead, the woman that was standing in front of him might be his age or a little older. She didn't even have the crazy, frizzy hair or the round glasses that made eyes look so much bigger than what they were. Instead, her locks were tied back, straight and died blond and her glasses were lenses, if they existed at all. She dressed smartly but her shirt was unbuttoned as if she had just come home after a long week and had only started to relax. It was Friday afternoon after all.

"Do I know you?" she asked in a tone that showed that she clearly didn't. "What is it?"

"Are you a witch?"

She stared at him oddly, as if she was trying to judge whether or not he was telling her a joke. His heart picked up pace. Was he at the wrong place? Impossible, he had checked his paper twice.

"What do you want from me?" she asked. Her eyes were narrowed.

"I was sent here," explained Oliver. He had to be careful not to stumble over his words in his hast. "Someone... Wovyn in hurt. An imp. Do you know Wovyn? He knew you, he sent me here. With this." He showed her the paper he was clutching in his hand.

"Wovyn? Hurt again?" she said. She stared at the paper but quickly figured out that it wasn't anything important. "Come in then, quickly. I was surprised. Generally, the humans that seek me out are women so I was a little surprised to see you."

He stepped inside. He smelled herbs and drying spices in the air, which was quite nice. Her flat was well ordered but cosy. Some of the couches in her open floor plan looked very comfortable, with nice hand-made cushions. He could perfectly picture Wovyn coming here to curl upon them. Looking around, he realized that the place was a stark contrast with his. Maybe he could draw some inspiration from Lola's taste when he redecorated.

"All right," she said once they were alone. "You must be... Oliver, right?"

"Correct."

"Wovyn's been talking my ears off about you for the past week. Let me guess. He climbed somewhere to try and impress you and fell, right?"

"No... no, he was bitten. By a ghoul."

Her eyes widened in shock.

"She was attacking me and he flew to my defence," explained Oliver. "He managed to chase her and... her child, I think, away, but now he's poisoned and can't get up. He said you had an antidote."

She narrowed her eyes. "Tarmika."

"Pardon?"

"That's the name of the ghoul, I'm guessing. She's well known for causing trouble around here and she's teaching Rekin - her child - to do the same. She's a bitch. How badly is he hurt?"

"She bit him and scratched him but none of his wounds looks like they are going to make him bleed out. I'm mostly worried about the venom she put in him."

"If that's the case, I better get working." She turned around swiftly and walked to her kitchen to turn on the water boiler. "I'll take five minutes, I got everything I need right there."

Oliver followed her timidly, not really knowing what to do. Lola suddenly looked at him sharply, surprised, but didn't comment on whatever she was seeing about him. He didn't dare ask. She started laying some herbs on the counter.

"So..." he said. "What did you say her name was?"

"Tarmika. She's been around for a while. She's the only ghoul I know that likes to torment people that see her. I can't be sure why she does that because she never answers questions, but I think she's just bored. Ghouls are rare but live very, very long lives."

"Tarmika," repeated Oliver for himself. So she had a name.

"Why do you ask?"

"I've known her for... a while. She terrified during all my teens."

"Oh... you've never consulted a witch for that? There are ways to keep them at bay."

"I've learned that witches exist today. I... didn't grow up in a family that was very keen with all that. I wish I would have."

She made a face. "Oh yeah, I know the feeling. For me, it's my sister. She's really not okay with me being a witch. She probably thinks that I'm crazy. My parents are fine with it, I guess. As long as I have a normal job on the side."

"Do you think she might come back?"

"Depends. I guess Wovyn kicked her ass, didn't he?"

"Yeah... he tore off her arm."

She snorted. "Yeah no, she won't be coming back. Did she get her arm back?"

"Yes."

"So she'll have it back on in a few days then. But I think she learned her lesson. Great imps don't mess around. It's a good thing that they are usually very placid creatures, don't you think?"

Oliver nodded. He knew how easily Wovyn could overpower him. He could hold him down into a mattress, against a wall or over a table without breaking a sweat. Oliver blushed at the memories of the time where his Wovyn had done those things to him.

But now wasn't the time to think about that. Lola was crushing some herbs to mix with the water, the tip of her tongue sticking out between her teeth in concentration. Oliver looked around the room, seeing a desk in a corner with many folders. It seemed a little out of place, he thought, so he asked about it.

"What do you work as?"

"I'm a scientist. A physicist."

He looked at her, surprised. She smiled but didn't look back at him.

"I know. I've heard it all, don't worry. It's boring, I don't look like it... I'm too pretty to be a physicist, have I ever considered becoming a teacher? I actually punched the guy that said that last one to me. Not, you know, on the spot, but later, when he was drunk. Because he was drunk."

"Wow," said Oliver. He had never met a scientist before. "I'm sorry but... what does a physicist study?"

"All sort of stuff. I don't think I'll convince you if I told you it's really interesting, but I think it is. As for me, I study close dimensions and sub-dimensions."

"Sounds complicated."

The water was boiling. She pulled out a flask, poured it in and added the herbs. "Maybe, I wouldn't know, I was told I was a natural at it." She shook the flask she was holding vigorously. "I'm looking into explaining the fact that some people can see supernatural creatures and some don't."

Oliver smiled. "Do other scientist take you seriously when you say this?"

She smiled back. "What if I told you that a lot of them already study the same field as I do?"

Oliver's mouth dropped open. She laughed.

"It's a new field of study that's being taken seriously since a few years. Of course, it's very advanced and the general public still believe that supernatural creatures are all child make-believe, but that's a normal thing when there are new discoveries. It takes time for them to become common knowledge."

"But then why don't they talk about it on TV? That's breaking news."

"That's because not everyone agrees with it, especially among the older generations of scientists. The information is out there, on the internet for example, but you've got big names in the scientific community that continues to believe in the old ways - that's what they believed in all of their lives. When they will retire, I'll be easier for us, the younger generation, to spread the facts. Science's history is made of discoveries, but also burials."

"Wow, I didn't know that."

"Well, now you do. By the way, my services cost money. I'm not too expensive though, it's just to cover the price of the ingredients."

"That's not a problem. But I still don't understand what being a physicist has to do with supernatural creatures."

"Aha! Glad you asked. That's tied to the reason why not everyone can see them: they aren't in the same dimension as we are. They are very close, though. You can think of it as them having one foot in our world and one foot in another world, to say it simply. That's my field of study."

"Oh..."

"Which bring me to my question. Is there any reason you can't see Laok?"

"Laok?" Oliver looked around him but, as far as he could tell, he was alone with Lola. "What do they look like?"

"Nah, you'd know if you saw him. He's a grey talking house cat." She suddenly smiled, looking to something on a couch that Oliver couldn't see. "You live in a house and you are a cat, I'm technically correct, you whiner."

"Oh, I'm very sorry," said Oliver, "but I can't see him at all. I've... taken a pill to shut them out when the ghoul attacked me."

"Oh. Wait a minute. You mean to tell me that you intended to give an antidote to Wovyn without seeing him?"

"Uh..." Oliver looked down, embarrassed.

She sighed. "All right, I'll come with you. You do realized he can't move, though? How did you think he was going to take it?"

"I don't know... We agreed on a spot where I would put it down while I could still see him."

She signed. "Let's just go. Did you come with the car?"

"Yes."

She nodded and went to put on a coat. Oliver followed her hesitantly, secretly glad that she was coming back with him. She seemed to know what she was dealing with better than he was.

_____

Oliver watched her from the door of the living room as she checked on Wovyn. He couldn't see his imp but she could, and she looked worried.

"How is he?" he asked as soon as she stepped away from the couch.

"He's semi-conscious but he's fighting the poison. I managed to make him drink. It's not pretty, but at least I think he's going to make it. At least his wounds don't look too serious. The bite looks nasty but isn't as bad as it seems, at least from what I can tell."

"Do you often heal creatures?"

"I do what I can. Most of the time I provide the medicine they need but I'm no doctor. Although... I wouldn't worry if I were in your shoes. Ghoul venom is a nasty thing but Wovyn is stubborn. I'll have to come back to check on him tomorrow, especially since the next couple of days is going to be rough for him to get through."

"What can I do?"

"Leave food on the table, ideally soup." She looked at him seriously. "That means no cookies, even if he asks for them. And an empty bowl in case he throws up."

"Throws up?"

"Or pee. He won't be able to get up at all so you have to make sure he's got everything he needs nearby. Other than that... A pen and some paper, in case he needs anything else and can't tell you."

Oliver nodded but remained quiet. He couldn't believe that he had taken the medicine in the end. He had promised Wovyn that he wouldn't and now he was useless.

"Hey," said Lola.

Olived looked up at her.

"He was also asking for you."

"Really?"

"Wovyn threw himself in front of a ghoul for you. Of course, he's going to want to see you while he recovers. The least you can do for him is to stay by his side, even if you don't see him. Just don't sit on him."

Oliver nodded.

"The effect of the medicine usually fades away after three days," she said. "Although you do start to see things on the second one. You'll have your boyfriend back soon."

"Boyfriend?" repeated Oliver. "We aren't... I mean..."

She crooked a brow. "You're telling me you didn't make it official? Damn, that's my last chance to make a move then."

Oliver's face hardened. She laughed before he could tell her to back off.

"I'm just kidding," she said. "Wovyn's gayer than rainbows. Even if he wasn't, I don't stand a chance in front of you: I can't bake to save my life. I'm more into humans anyway."

Oliver found himself smiling before he could stop himself and nodded. He felt as if he could breathe again. He had been so scared, but it seemed like things were getting better.

"Now for the fun part," said Lola. She looked quite smug. "I believe you owe me some money. They'll be an extra charge for me coming over, of course."

"Oh, all right," said Oliver.

In the end, he didn't pay hey anything too over the top. At least it was cheaper than the medicine he had bought. He certainly still wasn't bitter about that, not at all. She thanked him and he brought her home since she didn't come with her car.

Once he was back, he arranged everything as she had told him to. It was starting to get cold from the broken window, so he brought another extra blanket and laid it on the one that was already on Wovyn. It was strange to see it take the shape of the imp while Wovyn remained invisible. Oliver sat down with a book on the ground.

Now he waited.


	20. Happiness

"He's... better," said Lola.

Oliver perked up. The couch wasn't free, obviously, and he usually had no other seat, but he had dragged over his bed's mattress so that he could sleep in the same room was Wovyn, even when they couldn't talk. He had boarded up the window as he waited for the glazier to drop by for proper repairs so that it wouldn't be too drafty.

She signalled him to come in the hallway, where their talking wouldn't disturb the sleeping imp.

"He's not shaking anymore," she said. "I think the worse part of the poison is out of his system. He's still very weak now but it's upwards from here."

Oliver nodded. "I owe you so much Thank you."

"Heh." She smiled and rubbed her chin. "No problem."

"Is he awake now?"

She glanced back at the couch. The imp, still invisible in Oliver's eyes, had blankets piled on top of him. It Oliver looked carefully, he could see them move with his breathing. Seeing a small movement was a relief each time.

"I think he's back under right now. He's not very responsive because of how tired he is, to be honest. Just make sure that he has some food and water at his disposal."

Oliver drifted to the dish and thermos on the low table in front of the couch. "But he hasn't touched anything yet."

"Give it time. If he hasn't even touched water by the end of this afternoon, you have my number. Although this soup sure smells nice. I'd be surprised if he didn't take a shot at it first."

Oliver laughed. She knew Wovyn well.

"Have you known him for a long time?" asked Oliver.

"Me? A couple of years at least. He's dropped by because he was curious about me being a witch. He's a friend of a friend of a friend. To be honest, I almost threw something at him when he first appeared. He snuck into my house without being invited."

Oliver laughed. "Sounds about right."

"The same thing happened to you?"

"He smelled my baking."

She snorted.

Oliver smiled at first, but something he had been worrying about broke into his train of thought. He had to ask her.

"What should I do if Tarmika comes back? She might want revenge, she didn't seem to happy about that arm..."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about her. She's trouble, but she's more of a bully than a tormentor. Ghouls are scavengers, not hunters, they dislike killing even if they can get quite scary. She won't be coming back. Not before her arm is healed at least, and that might take a while."

"A while, like..."

"A while like two weeks."

"Thank god..."

"I don't think that she will come back. It would be one thing if she was only risking her life but she got a kid."

"Oh, about that kid. What's... why does he look so different from her? For a second I wondered if it was her when I saw him."

She nodded. "Don't tell her that though, she'd get mad that you are doubting that it's her kid. But yeah, he looks different from her, and that's because he's half-human himself."

Oliver blinked a couple of times. "How..." He pictured Tarmika, her long limbs, her sharp teeth, and her creepy eyes.

"Oh, trust me. If there is something out there, there is a human that will want to fuck it. I'm half-convinced that aliens haven't shown up yet because they are scared we are going to try and court them."

Oliver laughed. "That's absurd."

"Says the one that happily jumped into Wovyn's arms when he was given the chance."

Oliver blushed. "That's different."

"You do realize that most people would take one look at him and run away screaming, right? He's a huge breast that likes to hide in dark corners, with golden eyes and horns. There's a reason most kids call their parents to check under their bed when they have one. It's not a stretch to admit that people have even more outlandish tastes."

"Seen under this angle... But Wovyn wouldn't hurt a fly. He's the sweetest, most gentle person I've met."

"Good for you. But trust me. If you ever are interested in hanging out a bit more with us witches, I can promise you that you'll see things that are a lot more extravagant than that." She sighed. "People are strange, but so are creatures. It's a wonderful world we live in, don't you think?"

Oliver nodded. "I'd like to learn more about your world, when everything is a little calmer. We could go for coffee, for example."

"With pleasure. I'd love to try some of your baked sweets too."

"I'll try to keep them away from Wovyn, then."

They chuckled. Lola was a person that Oliver could see himself befriend. He wanted to hear her talk more about this strange world Wovyn came from, that was so close to his and yet so far away.

"Well, I'll be going," she said. "If there is anything, call me and I'll be right there."

"Thank you again for everything."

He brought her to the door and bid her farewell. She left, this time having her own car to go back home.

When he came back to the living room, he noticed that one of the papers he had left at Wovyn's disposal had some writing on it. He rushed to read it.

'Oliver'

Nothing else. Oliver glanced Wovyn's way, but he was invisible. His heart was beating fast. It was simple enough, but he knew what the imp wanted to do through that: he wanted to let him know that he was okay. He wanted to give him a sign.

Oliver smiled and brought the small piece of paper against his heart. 

Sunday morning wasn't a day where Oliver usually slept in. Even if he had not brought his clock from his room to the living room, that Sunday wasn't an exception. However, when he opened his eyes, he paused, feeling strange. It took him a while to put his finger on it. He felt... as if he was embraced, held, by no one at all. He recognized the sensation of being protected like that.

He slowly sat up and looked at the couch. It was empty. Even the blankets had been dragged over to his bed. Here was the bump that indicated Wovyn's presence. Oliver chuckled and caressed it lightly, guessing that the imp was sleeping in as he always did.

He had left an empty bowl for Wovny and it had remained so, meaning that the imp was probably strong enough to go to the toilet, but he also noticed that the soup had emptied itself ever so slightly. This was a good sign. Oliver set off to prepare himself for the day with a smile.

While he was preparing his breakfast, his phone rang. He picked up quickly, too quickly to check the number, as to stop the winging.

"Oli-poo!" said his mother.

Oliver winced. "Hi, mom. How are you?"

"I'm doing well! In fact, I am calling because I just received the most wonderful news. Joanne broke up with her boyfriend!"

Who the fuck was Joanne? "That's terrible! Is she all right?"

"Oh, she's been crying all week. She's coming over this lunch to tell me all about it too. What I haven't told her was that you would be there as well..." She giggled as if she had just conceived some sort of master plan.

"You mean, this lunch? As in, today?"

"Of course! I know it's a little late but I just came off the phone with her, so those are very fresh news."

Wait a moment. He remembered Joanne. She had not come to his mind right away because he had thought her to be his mother's age, but this sounded too much like one of her brilliant plans to hook him up with some random woman. The Joanne she was talking about must be that girl he played with when he was younger, before they moved out. He had no idea his mother was in contact with her.

"Mom, I won't make it. I got other plans first, sorry."

"But... this is Joanne, Oli-poo. She's your first love! This is the perfect opportunity to get back with her, like when you were little."

"Mom, I was five."

"I still have pictures of you two? Don't you think it would be adorable if that happened?"

"It won't happen. She just went through a break-up, the last thing she wants to do is to be dealing with another man at the moment." And his overbearing mother.

"Oh no, I won't stand for my son to be a mere rebond. No, today is about getting to know her, show her kindness. She'll remember it when her celibacy empowerment phase wears off, you know."

"It won't work even then."

"How can you be so sure? I know that last time you saw her she hit you with your toy truck, but she's changed a lot. She's a lovely young lady, and she loves cooking! You'll be able to do that together, and you can talk about that too."

"Mom, it's not that."

"Then what? Why must you be always so difficult?"

Oliver held on the side of the table. His heart was beating fast, his knuckles were white from how strong he held on the wood.

"It won't work," he told her, "because I'm gay."

There was a silence. He closed his eyes. There was no running away anymore.

"You are not gay," she answered. "You've never been with a woman."

"I don't want to be with a woman."

"You don't know because you've never tried it!"

Oliver sighed.

"Listen, Oli-poo. My dear. My sweet boy. I know that women are intimidating and mysterious for you, a man, but you must understand - we complete each other, we are meant to be with one another. You need to understand-- you're smarter than that. Why would nature make something like... being gay! We are made to reproduce. And I know that you think you got all the time in the world but you are twenty-eight. Soon, you'll be thirty-five, and you will have experienced nothing - nothing! And now you tell me that you are gay?"

"Mom..."

"I'm not finished." She sounded slightly distressed before, but now she was working herself into becoming angry. "I know it's fashion to be gay. We can afford it because we are so many on this earth, so some crazy, disillusioned... people can think this is what they are. But we are meant to have children. You can't have that when you are... fencing with another men's dick."

Oliver almost burst out in laughter at the mental image. His bought of reality stopped when he realized that she was absolutely serious.

"No, listen to me, Oliver Renold. It's a choice. But you got to understand how empty it is. We have such different perspectives on life than you, men. We are kinder, and we pay more attention to details - we are the yin to your yang!"

"That's not true," said Oliver. "I like paying attention to details. And I know a man that's very kind."

"That's impossible."

"That's what you believe."

"That's the truth! That's how the world works!"

"The world doesn't have rules, mom." Oliver looked towards the living room, to his bed where the blankets were still piled up. "Everyone sees the world their own way and make their own rules. As for me, I'm just going to do what makes me happy from now on."

"But..."

She didn't say more, at loss for words.

"Goodbye, mom. Say hi to Joanna for me."

"This conversation isn't finished."

"I'm sure it isn't."

He hung up. His hands were shaking again. He couldn't believe he told her. He couldn't believe it had been that easy. He was going to have to think long and hard about what she said. Not because he wanted to believe her, but because he wanted to figure out just why he had thought that she was right enough to shut him up when everything she had told him had sounded so ridiculous to him.

And he was going to make bake today. He had frozen raspberries in the freezer, they would taste great inside chocolate muffins.


	21. Promises to Keep

Oliver paused as he watched one of the muffins he had just made slowly levitating towards the edge of the table.

"Wovyn! No stealing!" he cried.

The muffin dropped on the spot. If he squinted, Oliver could distinguish something akin to a shadow leaning over the kitchen table, perfectly still, as if he wouldn't notice. Oliver placed his hands on his hips and frowned at him.

"Back to bed, Wovyn," he said. "You'll get your part after you drank all your soup."

There was a pause from the shadow. Maybe he was talking, Oliver didn't know if he was as he couldn't hear him. Eventually, Wovyn produced a small paper that he placed on the table and moved back to the living room. Oliver moved to the paper when he was gone, to read the message.

'I want to watch tv with you please'

Wovyn's handwriting was particular. It was very round and curvy. Oliver loved it from the second he had first seen it and he was already hoarding the messages he was getting like they were going to go out of fashion. Which they probably were when Wovyn would recover his ability to talk to him normally.

"I'll come right away when I am done with the frosting," he said in the direction of the living room. Hopefully, Wovyn heard him. "Tell me what you want to see when we get there."

He got to work right after that, but his mind was still busy with what he had told his mother earlier. She had not called or messaged him and lunchtime was approaching. He wondered if she was mad at him or resented him. He decided that it wasn't that important as long as he was with Wovyn.

Did that mean that he could see himself spend more time with the imp? Maybe. And he could also see himself adopting a cat with him. He wondered if Wovyn liked cats in general. If he didn't mind Loak when he was visiting Lola, he probably wasn't allergic. Although Oliver wasn't quite sure if Loak was a real cat. If he was, he would have been able to see him when he visited, right? And what sort of cat could talk?

He decided that he was better off asking Lola. He texted her his question. She answered rather quickly, as if she had been on her phone in the first place.

'He's a sphinx.'

Weren't sphinxes massive lion-like creatures that ate humans? That didn't really answer his question. Oliver would have to see Loak for himself when the effects of the medicine would wear off.

'How's Wovyn by the way?' she asked.

'He's doing fine,' wrote Oliver. 'He's been trying to steal muffins just now'

'Your giving him muffins? He's resting, might upset his stomach'

'He said he's fine'

'Admit your just hooked on spoiling him'

Maybe. 'No'

'Whatever. Do what you want'

'We're going to watch a movie'

'What movie?'

'idk'

He put the phone down at this point and went to check on his sick boy. The latter seemed to be snuggled in some blankets on the mattress. He perked up when Oliver entered the room.

"No muffins yet," said the human. "Finish your soup first."

Wovyn, in typical Wovyn fashion, rolled around on the bed. Oliver could almost hear his whiny voice. Thank gods he couldn't see him, otherwise, he was sure his heart would already be melting for those golden eyes.

Noticing that there was a piece of paper with writing on the low table, he approached it to read it. The name of the movie that Wovyn had picked up was 'the last I heard of Amber'. A romance? Oliver had been expecting the next episode of the series they were currently watching but he didn't mind that if that was what Wovyn wanted.

"Let's see if I have it on streaming," said Oliver as he started to set up the television. "It's a recent film, so it shouldn't be too hard..."

He found it easily over the next few minutes. As he did so, Wovyn finished his soup so he brought out the raspberry chocolate muffins. They went well with the movie.

Oliver could feel his eyelids become heavy towards the end. He had not had a lot of sleep, with how much he had worried for Wovyn. He allowed himself to slumber. 

_____

He became aware of two things when he regained awareness. One, that it was dark, and two, that there was a strong, solid arm around him, holding him close, and a breath against the back of his neck.

His heart leaped of joy in his throat and he turned around immediately, wanting to see Wovyn for himself.

The imp was sleeping next to him, unaware that he was visible to Oliver, even if there remained a certain quality of transparency to him. Oliver didn't even think about it: he kissed him passionately, with all the strength of someone that had been scared for his life.

Wovyn woke up with a groan that changed into a pleased sound when he realized that he was being kissed. He wrapped his arms around Oliver slowly and tried to kiss back at the best of his abilities. His human noticed that he was weak compared to how he remembered him to be. He pulled away.

"You see me," whispered Wovyn.

"I do," said Oliver.

Wovyn produced a pleased sound and snuggled up to him. He smelled wonderful. He felt wonderful. Oliver wanted him badly after barely two days. Or was it three? He couldn't tell if they were past midnight now. He knew that the time wasn't appropriate for wanting sex. He was happy just talking to him anyway.

"I missed you so much," he said.

"I missed you too," said Wovyn. "And I could see that you were sad and I wanted to hold you and-- Please promise me you will never, ever take those nasty pills again. I never want to see you like that."

"Of course I won't. I threw them away. All of it. It was all lies."

"I told you that I am real."

"I know."

"And she won't come back." Wovyn chuckled. "I beat her."

"You sure did."

"Was I hot?"

"Wovyn!"

"I know, I was very hot." Wovyn posed smugly despite his state.

"I was worried sick. It's not about if you were hot or not."

"But I was, wasn't I? And how about my scars?"

"I hope they heal. I don't want to think about this ever again."

"What? But they are my proud battle scars!" He pointed at his face. "Scars are sexy."

"Maybe to you," said Oliver with a shrug. "I can show you the scar I had from my apendicite operation, if that's what you like. It's not very sexy."

Wovyn licked his lips. "I noticed it. It's very sexy. When I lick it, you get hard."

Oliver bit his lip. He couldn't help that. When Wovyn looked at him a certain way when he kissed his stomach, it was like a signal for heat to shoot through his crotch. It wasn't because he has some weird scar kink or anything.

Although, if it was on Wovyn... Maybe he could develop one. Could kinks be learned? He didn't quite know but he would be intrested to try.

Wovyn was looking at his face. What Oliver saw in it, he didn't know, but he must have liked it for seconds later he was trying to climb over his human while taking off his clothes.

"Wovyn!" protested Oliver.

"I want to lick it now!"

"You're not in a state to do anything."

And Oliver was right: Wovyn was so weak that he was easily pushed off - at least compared to his usual self. He was still very heavy, which made wiggling out from under him difficult, but Oliver managed. He stood up and stepped away, panting.

Wovyn gave him puppy eyes.

"No," said Oliver. "You're too weak."

"Cuddle with me, please," said Wovyn, spreading his arms as he flopped on his back.

Oliver rose a brow, susicious.

"I promise I'll behave. It was a joke."

Oliver knew that it had not been a joke but the promise sounded sincere enough. He laid back down with his goofy idiot and sighed in content.

"Oliver," suddenly said Wovyn. "Be my boyfriend."

"What?"

"Please. I really really like you, I think I'm a little bit in love. You said to Lola that it wasn't... official. Be my boyfriend now."

Oliver laughed to hide his embarassement. His heart was beating strongly in his chest. "I'd love to, if you want me to be that."

"Of course. I'll even be your boyfriend back."

Wovyn held Oliver tight, as if he was scared to have him slip away from him. Oliver was so happy he felt as if it was all a dream.

"Wovyn?"

"Hm?"

"I love you back."

"Really?" Wovyn let go of him and half sit up so that he would be looking down on his face, looking for confirmation. "Really! Oh, that makes me so happy. So so so happy! My heart is going to explode."

Oliver was happily crushed under the weight of a second hug. He laughed and patted the overjoyed imp's back.

"I could feel it in the muffins," whispered Wovyn, "but I wasn't sure what it was. Now I know it's because I was tasting your love for me."

"Are you sure it wasn't just the raspberries?"

"I'm sure it wasn't but only since right now."

Oliver shook his head. His reason told him that tasting someone's love was silly, but his heart was telling him that it might be true. And who else but sweet Wovyn would be the one most capable of that?

"Promise that you'll try to stay my boyfriend for a really long time," said Wovyn.

"I do if you do."

"Of course!"

There was silence. They laid next to one another, comfortable in each other's presence.

"You need to rest," said Oliver.

"Stay with me. Tonight. And then tomorrow."

"I need to work tomorrow."

"Call in sick! For me. Please?"

Oliver sighed. He wasn't looking at Wovyn but he knew that he was looking at him with those big, begging eyes. He sighed.

"All right. But that will be the only time I do that for you."

"Yes!"

Wovyn kissed him. His lips were sweet, the same sweet that was going to fill Oliver's life from now on. He let himself be taken by it, transported by a happiness that he had only started to discover. But he had all the time in the world to do so now that he had Wovyn.


	22. Five Years Later

"Oliver!"

His cookie raised his head. He was making dinner, and it was promising to be delicious already, but there was an emergency. Wovyn didn't even tell him what it was, knowing that Oliver would want explanations he didn't have the time to give; he just picked up his human, eliciting a grunt of protests from him.

"It's an emergency!"

"Wovyn! I can walk!"

But not fast enough. Wovny leapt across the kitchen and through the living room. In one final hop, he landed on the couch, making it creak under their combined weight.

"Wovyn, what is the meaning of this?" asked his human, indignant.

Instead of answering, Wovyn pointed to the television. 

It was a show. The host was smiling at the camera and the man she was interviewing was laid back in the guest's couch, visibly enjoying himself. He had a billion-dollar smile but calculating eyes, as if he was constantly trying to take in everything at the same time. Wovyn didn't know if he wanted to trust him or not.

"That's the show that Lola wanted you to watch?"

"Wanted _us _to watch, but you forgot! She said it's super important."

"She didn't say that."

"She did!"

"She just said that it was a surprise."

They would have continued to banter when the host turned back to her guest, ready to ask him a question.

"So, Eric, can you describe this revolutionary product your company is making?"

"Well absolutely." The man called Eric signalled to some staff off-screen to bring him a box, from which he delicately pulled out a circle of glass. "It doesn't look like much, but this glass had the amazing property of correcting dimensional distortions, allowing us to see things that are there but were previously invisible to us. Dimors, my company, has previously been serving some specialized sectors in those fields but we are currently about to mass commercialize our patented product. We are sure that many people's life will find itself drastically changed by this."

"Could you describe the impact it will have on our life?"

"Oh, I can do better than that. I can show you."

Eric stood up. Wovyn wasn't sure he understood everything that was being implied but Oliver was leaning towards the screen, absolutely fascinated by what he was seeing.

"Before tonight, I have made sure to come equipped with a camera sold by our of our company. What the camera films..." He made a hand signal to someone in the back. The screen behind them, that had been showing the logo of the show up to then, switched to a view of the television set. "Is now being shown behind me. It is time that I present to you the one that inspired the foundation of the company as a whole."

He walked over to the side of the set confidently and lent a hand for someone out of the camera's filed to come on stage. A red hand gripped his and one of the most elegant looking men Oliver had ever seen appeared.

Only it wasn't a man, Oliver realized when the crowd exploded in screams and applause.

"Do with no tricks whatsoever, live, for your viewing pleasure, ladies in gentlemen," said Eric, visibly pleased.

The creature that was gracefully strolling next on the stage was dressed in an elegant black suit, that complimented both his golden skin and the red scales on the side of his face. He was tall and lean, and behind each of his steps swayed a reptilian tail. There was a small smile on his face as he surveyed the crowd and looked into the camera, as if it was natural to him that all attention was directed to him.

"He's... he's supernatural," said Oliver. "The crowd doesn't see him with their own eyes."

"Oh," said Wovyn.

"Wovyn, that changes literally everything in our lives."

"People will see me too?"

"They will know you exist."

Her two guests were back on the couch in front of the show's host. They sat comfortably close to each other. Wovyn wondered what was their relationship. They were both very handsome, although not as handsome as his Oliver. They looked like they fit well together.

"Wow," said the host with a bright, white smile. "This is fantastic. What is your name?"

"My name is Dimor, and I am a Vouivre."

"Oh, so that's where the company's name comes from. And I can hear you! Is that because of your microphone?"

Dimor, casually, reached up to touch the microphone hooked to his tie. "Of course. This is also produced by Eric's company."

The host turned to the camera. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is history. Thanks to recent discoveries, we know that there are indeed living creatures in sub-dimensions, but now practically anyone can experience it for themselves. It's a whole new world of possibilities!" She turned to her hosts. "This begs the question of how you two met for the first time."

Wovyn noticed that suddenly Dimor's smile felt strained and Eric's embarrassed. They looked at each other briefly, then Eric spoke up.

"Dimor chose to appear to me after a major event in my life. I'm not naturally gifted to see supernatural creatures myself, you see, so I needed to rely on Dimor's ability to make himself visible to certain people. Naturally, it made me want to share this gift with the world... and here we are tonight."

"Time flies," commented Dimor.

"Exactly."

"Amazing," said the host. "So, with your treated glass, I would be able to meet that nasty imp that's been causing me trouble in my drying room?"

There was a round of laughter. Wovyn burst in laughter too, thinking that it was very funny, but Oliver didn't. He seemed absolutely fascinated.

"Why, if that is what you want to do," said Eric.

"Although, as with imps, the best way to pacify them is usually with a food offering," added Dimor.

Again, Wovyn laughed and snuggled Oliver. Food wasn't the only thing that pacified him, he thought as he breathed in Oliver's smell. He still hadn't moved away from his lap, which was a dangerous situation.

"Our goal, at Dimors, is to give people the possibility to expand their horizons like never before. The world is full of opportunities for anyone that wishes to seek them out, and full of relationships to be had. We don't want people to be limited by what they see - to judge the book of the world by its cover. Our goal will always be to make the world wider for everyone."

There was some applause from the crowd. The host nodded in approval.

"Beautiful," she said. "What a wonderful speech, very inspiring. That begs the question of what sort of relationship you two have."

"We are in a couple," said Eric without missing a beat. He passed an arm around Dimor and looked around as if challenging anyone to try and steal him. The Vouivre seemed to tolerate it.

"Oh, that's wonderful! You look very cute together."

"Thank you," answered Eric.

Wovyn looked at both of their faces carefully. He decided that they were indeed smiling but that they still looked sad. He wondered why that was so. They were rich and beautiful. Why would they ever be sad?

"There is something that I can't wrap my head around," said the host. "I've heard that there are people out there that can keep seeing supernatural creatures after the age of seven, which is usually when what is commonly referred to as "childhood hallucinations" stop. I've also heard that one can retain those abilities if they train themselves to do so. So, if people trained themselves, they wouldn't need your product?"

"In theory, yes," said Eric. "Obviously, you don't see Dimor, that's sitting right next to me, without some help. For you to acquire the skill to do so, you would need to train, and this training, that is only delivered by people that are specialized in the field, cost time and money. Not everyone can afford that. We are Dimors want to make sure that everyone can have access to the best of what this world has to offer without sacrificing large portions of their times and livelihood. And there is another important factor to consider: there are still a large number - a majority, in fact - that believe that supernatural creatures can't be real. With inventions such as ours, we make it easier for people to wrap their head around the concept. One can think of it as a trial period for humanity."

"How wonderfully put."

*Thank you."

"Speaking about a trial period for humanity, how do you see the future now that you have entered the game?"

"I see it as a wonderful place, where humans and non-humans come together to celebrate their differences. They are so many ways we can benefit from them - and they from us! It's like meeting aliens for the first time, except that we all share this earth like long-lost siblings. Not even dimensions between us can stop us."

"That makes me want to go and get one right now!"

"Well feel free to use this one," replied Eric as he handed her the one he had received earlier. "It's on the house."

"Wow, thank you so much!"

She peeked through the round glass, looking at Dimor.

"You are really beautiful," she told him. "I'm glad I get to see you."

"Thank you."

"And with that, lady and gentlemen, we are arriving at the end of our program. Please make it roar for Eric and Dimor!"

The crowd went wild. Wovyn saw his chance then and slipped his hand under Oliver's shirt, that wasn't paying enough attention to him. His cookie eek-ed and pulled him out, before looking at the imp over his shoulder with a frown.

Wovyn giggled.

"Oh I see how it is," said Oliver with a smirk. "Going for your dessert first, mister? Naughty."

"I'm happy. People are going to see me now."

"I'll miss seeing you less shirtless," answered Oliver as he turned all the way around. "I quite like you that way, but you can't be half-naked when other people see you."

"That's true... well, that means that you should take advantage of it now, while you can."

Oliver laughed and leaned against Wovyn, kissing him in the neck. On the television, the two guests of the show were standing up and waving.

"Oliver? What do you think about Eric and Dimor?"

"The guys we just saw? I think that they look nice."

"I think they look tense."

"It's a television show, of course they were tense."

"No no... not like that. Between them."

"Oh, that. I noticed as well. Maybe they are in a couple only for the press on them? The media has been loving homosexual couples lately." Not that Oliver was complaining. "I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case."

"Do you think that they are faking it?"

"No... I don't think so. They don't look like fake people. In fact, I'm sure that they are very nice."

Oliver stood up, leaving a cold imprint on Wovyn's body. The latter whined needily.

"I need to prepare the food," told him Oliver. "Horny beast."

"Nothing's cooking."

"It will be even better if we wait after eating for that." Oliver kissed his forehead.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and thank you for reading until the end! I hope you enjoyed Bedside Monster, Wovyn and Oliver. It was quite an adventure and while I still wish to come back and edit it some time, I'm glad the first draft is finished. 
> 
> If you want to be even more informed on what's happening next, make sure to follow my Twitter at @ClawsWrites, where I talk about my WIPs and muse about my projects. You're also more than welcome to drop by if you have any question or concern you'd like to ask me directly. 
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment about your thoughts on the story, I appreciate every type of feedback I can get. 
> 
> With that, see you next time!


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